Galaxies Collide
by Emperor K. Rool
Summary: Two ships from two different galaxies collide with each other over the planet Dathomir. As two galaxies collide the survivors have to come to terms trust each other they must come to terms with their darkest secrets as individuals. Some villains can become heroes, but the opposite is just as possible. TMNT, Star Wars, AVP, and Transformers. Based on Lost. Complete.
1. 1-1 Collision

AN: This fic is a crossover of four different franchises: Star Wars, Ninja Turtles, Alien Versus Predator, and Transformers. The story is largely based on Lost, but I develop my characters differently so that what has a beginning essentially stolen from Lost should have a quite different ending in terms of character development.

The Star Wars elements are set about a century after Episode VII and are supposed to be in the new continuity but in a time period not yet written about. The TMNT elements don't fit neatly into a single TMNT version but are a blend of several. AVP is kind of like TMNT in that Yautja hunt, Xenomorphs infect, but I'm not necessarily following all of the movies, books, or the timelines. The Transformers elements are mostly G1/Beast Wars, but they aren't really heavily involved until book 2. Mirta is supposed to be speaking Basic to Cody but I've written her lines in a mixture of Mando'a and gibberish.

 **Dramatis Personae for Book 1**

Cody Jones (Human Male from Milky Way Galaxy, originally from TMNT: Fast Forward, descendant of Casey Jones and April O'Neil)

Mirta Rau (Human Female from Republic Galaxy, Mandalorian Warrior, OC)

Zed Ram (Triceraton Male, first alien leader of the Foot Ninja Clan and first alien Shredder, Species in most versions of TMNT, based on unused Trishreddatron from canceled second season of TMNT: Fast Forward)

Uxils (Utrom Male, Species in most Versions of TMNT, OC)

Rukh (Noghri Male, husband to Meewal, Species from Star Wars Legends, OC)

Meewal (Noghri Female, wife to Rukh, OC)

Yeyinde/"Baron Samedi" (BadBlood Yautja Male, AVP EU name for Predator Species, OC)

Quoreal Rapuung (Yuuzhan Vong Male, Warrior caste, Species from Star Wars Legends, OC)

Shalx (Utrom Female, OC)

Sanjay Patel (Human Male from Milky Way Galaxy, father of Muni Patel, OC)

Muni Patel (Juvenile Human Male, OC)

Durga Besadii Tai (Male Hutt, named for but not the same as Star Wars Legends Character, OC)

Krang (Utrom Male, crime boss, originally from the 1980s cartoon version of TMNT)

Claudelle Fontaine (Human Female from Milky Way Galaxy, OC)

The escape pod bounced violently as it landed violently on a rocky outcrop. The impact threw Cody against the wall, leaving him dazed for a while. His head throbbed which was to be expected.

After a few minutes the throbbing died down. Cody held his hand in front of his face and blinked a few times. No signs of double vision. Cody sighed, got to his feet and exited the dull yellow of the pod's interior.

A cinnamon flavor in his nose and dark brown tropical trees with rich green leaves were the first things he noticed on exiting the pod. There had hardly been enough time before the impact with the alien ship to determine that there had been enough oxygen in the atmosphere. But there was no way of knowing what foods were poisonous or not or how far they were from the nearest spacefaring civilization.

The wormhole that had opened in the Cybertronian System could have sent them anywhere in the galaxy…no, the universe. There was no guarantee that the wormhole was stable so Cody certainly hoped he was still in the Milky Way.

Hundreds of spacefarers from his transport vessel were stranded on this alien world for the time being. As head of Jones-O'Neil Tech Industries worth billions of credits, Cody could have traveled in a private corvette, but he preferred to stay close to the working class roots of his Welsh-(at least that's what everyone said "Jones" was), Irish-, and Korean-American ancestors. Besides having a major CEO among the missing might speed up the search and get everyone home safely.

Realizing that he needed to meet up with the other survivors, Cody began exploring. He walked forward a little piece only to find himself on the edge of a moderately high cliff. From this vantage point he could take in a vast panorama: jungle, rivers, two mountains, and a coast. A large fragment of the transport vessel's stern was in the water along with appeared to be the aft of the alien vessel they collided with. More importantly, there appeared to be small fires and groups of individuals huddled around them. Cody knew where to go now.

He retraced his steps to the escape pod, and, noting the gradual slop of the hill downward followed it.

When he was about halfway down, he heard the distinctive whistling of a missile aimed toward him. Cody jumped out of the way only to find it hit the ground two full meters from where he had been standing. Its purpose had been to scare, not to kill.

Cody looked past the smoke to see a figure in a helmet with a T-Shaped Visor, and an antenna over the right side of the head. This person was fully armored head to toe.

They must be from the other ship, Cody thought.

The armored figure began speaking to Cody in what sounded like gibberish with a distinct feminine voice.

Cody raised both hands.

"Hold on, my translator doesn't recognize your language."

The woman in armor cocked her head, as if she were puzzled.

That confirmed Cody's worst fear. All of the Milky Way had been explored, and virtually everyone had universal translators and breathing equipment built into their clothing.

The wormhole had led to another galaxy, after all.

The woman asked him something again.

"Look, I don't speak your language, but if you give me time…" Cody pointed to his belt buckle, then to his mouth, and, knowing fully well she would have no idea what the words "talk" or "translate" meant in his language, employed those words anyway.

Fortunately, she seemed to understand his body language. She stepped forward and began speaking slowly while pointing to herself.

"Neyar gain Mirta Rau."

Now she pointed to Cody.

"Koyar gain?"

Cody could gather that she had just said her name. He pointed to his chest.

"My name is Cody Jones."

"Cody Jones," She repeated, taking off her helmet to reveal a tan skinned human woman with dark hair. Not near human, but as identical to himself as one of the humans of Earth or D'hoonib.

"You're human!" Cody exclaimed. As an afterthought he pointed to her, and said "You're human…" and then to himself, "Like me."

He was surprised to hear her say, "Human" with several pronouns he couldn't catch, and gestured to the sky when the belt device began translating, "We're the most common species in the galaxy! I'm from Mandalore, but most of us there are human."

She seemed genuinely surprised by his question.

His device had enough vocabulary now to translate, "I'm not from this galaxy," into her language.

She said a statement that he knew was an emphatic "What!?"

It was now Cody's turn to gesture and say incomprehensible words.

"The wormhole…you know, the light that appeared in space, when our ships collided"

She said "ker" for "light," "hutslarch" for "wormhole", and "gueir" for "ship".

Her face changed from disbelief to pity. Then she remembered her own pressing need.

"You can't torjen." she said then looked away. She obviously needed help.

"Wait!" Cody said, prompting her to turn her head back. "How can I help you?"

"That's what you want, right? Help?"

She guessed at the meaning.

"Not for myself."

Cody followed Mirta through a path on the hillside that led to her own escape pod. It was a large grey cylinder which looked large enough to hold two or three people with an oval indentation facing them.

Mirta slid an almost imperceptible notch away to reveal an orange control panel with a black screen and blinking green light.

After entering a command, the oval opened and Cody saw a fair-skinned human with graying brown hair lying down unconscious. There was a bloody indentation above his right eye.

"He obviously needs a doctor fast!" Cody said. Then realizing Mirta had no clue what he said, he repeated the single word "doctor" followed by the sentence: "I'm not one." Then he pointed in the direction he had seen the campfires from.

"There are people that way. Maybe we can find a doctor."

Mirta nodded seeming to understand.

The two of them walked toward the beach were they noticed numerous individuals, humans making up the majority, and other species, some of which Cody recognized, and others which he assumed were native to Mirta's galaxy. There were various campfires where two or more individuals had gathered together. Cody noticed that the all the species sharing a particular fire were strictly from the same galaxy as their neighbors.

He turned his head and thought he saw the blurred outline of a cloaked Yautja hunter, but he was unsure.

Did a Yautja ship also come through the wormhole?

That gave him cause for concern, but he remembered why he was here.

He turned to Mirta, still wearing her helmet and pointed to a large slug-like creature and, a pair of short gray skinned creatures in brown robes at the far end of the camp.

"You talk to them."

He then gestured to three Utroms and a Triceraton.

"I'll talk to them."

Mirta nodded and the two split up.

Cody headed toward the Utroms. His family had a long history with the Utroms. It was after all, an Utrom Ship that crashed on Earth whose reactor's waste matter had mutated The Ninja Turtles back in the 1980s. If it had not been for the If it had not been for the scientific collaboration between the Turtle Donatello and Cody's ancestor April O'Neil, Jones-O'Neil Tech would never have been born.

Cody looked at the three Utroms. They were Cephalopod-like creatures with pinkish skin, human-sized heads and miniature tentacles on which they crawled. Two were apparently young, judging by the lack of wrinkles and stress marks on their faces, and one of the two was apparently female and heavily pregnant judging by the bulge on the side of her head. The third of them was much older and accompanied by a Triceraton holding traveling bags.

"Do any of you guys know where there's a doctor?"

"Sorry, we crashed here the same time you did. Good luck though," the younger male said.

"And if you find one, could you tell him about me?" The female said.

Cody looked to the Triceraton, a sulfur-breathing anthropomorphic dinosaur. This one had orange scales and was clad all in black. His green eyes told that he was extremely nervous.

Cody started to ask what was wrong only to be verbally beaten back by the elderly Utrom.

"Don't bother my butler!"

Cody remembered that he was on a mission and beat a hasty retreat. Still, though he hated stereotyping, Triceratons, as a rule, were too proud to serve as butlers. True, most Triceratons on earth were working class, but even they didn't work as butlers as a rule.

He tried to put it out of his mind, but that look in the Triceraton's eyes told him that there was something to be concerned about besides stranded in a different galaxy. Still it was probably best not to focus on it. He'd chastised enough rude employers beneath him in Jones-O'Neil Tech to recognize the elderly Utrom's attitude.

Mirta was having considerably better work as there were slightly more inhabitants of her own galaxy here. Her search for a doctor had led her to Quoreal Rapuung, a Yuuzhan Vong of the warrior caste. His species had invaded the galaxy only a decade ago, leaving one trillion dead before they were resettled on the sentient planet Zonama Sekot. Many Mandalorians had died.

Why a Vong would be out and about in the galaxy at large was beyond her.

He was in the middle of trying to organize an expedition to the tallest local point when Mirta tapped him on the shoulder. His long dark hair, uncommon among the mostly bald Vong males, swooshed as he turned to meet the Mandalorian.

"Yes, what is it?" He said abruptly.

His death white skin, sloping forehead, and flat nose made his quick response seem angrier than he'd probably intended. Still, Mirta realized she had best be quick.

"Durga the Hutt said you have medical experience."

"Battlefield first aide. I'm not a Shaper."

"Shaper" was the term for the Vong scientist class.

Mirta cursed in Mando'a and said to Rapuung, "I have been looking for someone with even the slightest amount of medical experience and you're the best I can find!"

Rapuung sighed.

"Is this serious?"

"Life or death."

"Fine," he gestured in exasperation. "I'll do what I can."

The Vong turned to the group he had been addressing.

"We have to wait. Someone needs medical attention."

The group murmured and gradually dispersed leaving the Vong and Mandalorian standing side by side. Mirta wasn't exactly happy with the help that she found, but he would have to do. She looked across the beach to see Cody being chased away by three small cephalopod-like creatures. He caught a glimpse of her, and she gestured to Quoreal and nodded.

He gave her a sign she took to mean success as he stuck one thumb up.

"Who is he?" Quoreal asked.

"One of our friends from the other galaxy," She said expecting the Vong to understand.

Quoreal, however said as if the idea was just dawning on him, "You think these aliens are from another galaxy?"

"My friend told me as much," she said.

"He is human, you know?"

"Human in appearance but not knowing a single word of Basic. He has an interpreting device on his belt but it took a lot of hit and miss before we got the most basic vocabulary. We established the words 'wormhole' and 'galaxy,' so I'm pretty sure. Now it's your turn: What were you gathering people together for?" Mirta began walking toward her escape pod.

"We need someone to get to the mountain top in the distance and see what is around us. Something is blocking our holoprojectors. We need to find what is doing this and destroy it," Rapuung said as he followed her.

The significance of what he said wasn't lost on Mirta.

"We can't communicate with anyone off world!?"

"I'm afraid not. And these people from the other galaxy have no way to get home either."


	2. 1-2 Who is the Real Mirta Rau?

AN: Slight retcon: Mirta Rau is from Concordia rather than Mandalore proper. They still have some form of the earlier Mandalorian warrior tradition there as of _Rebels_. This is also not a human/Yautja romance but it makes heavy reference to the Taung, an alien species in the old _Star Wars EU_ , who were the first Mandalorians and who were based on Predators.

While her recently acquired Yuuzhan Vong battlefield medic was tending to Jodo Kast, Mirta was fulfilling her part of her deal with him to lead a team to find what was blocking the holoprojectors and comm systems. Five individuals were walking with her: four humans from her galaxy, and most importantly, the member who was determining how fast they could move.

Durga Besaadi Tai was not that out-of-shape by Hutt standards. That being said he was still a Hutt. Having no internal skeleton apart from the mantel in his head, his tail muscles had to squeeze on his internal fluids in order for him to move. If this were Nal Hutta, where slime trails abounded on the entire swamp-like planet it would be one thing, but if their star charts were right, they should be on Dathomir, and if their escape pod trajectories were right, they were in an equatorial region, either near the central continent, or in one of the island chains off its coast.

"How much further," Durga asked in his youthful voice for the umpteenth time,

He was grating on Mirta's nerves by this point.

She pointed to a mountain in a tall tan mountain in the distance.

"There. All the way to the top."

Durga followed the line of her hand and gulped.

"All the way up?"

"That's what I just said," Mirta responded trying to keep irritation out her voice, but mountain climbing could be painstakingly slow as it was, dragging a Hutt along…

"Do you want to wait for us at the base?" She asked. She then realized she had just made a terrible mistake.

"Are you crazy?!" Durga shouted back to her in rapid Basic, "This is Dathomir! They have wild Rancors and Nightsisters and poisonous fungi and—"

She then realized that Hutt might have slight personality issues. She felt a little bad for the tone she'd used earlier.

She put her gloved hand on the Hutt's short upper arm.

"You can come with us, Durga."

She heard moans from the other humans and she turned to face each of them.

"From what I understand this mission was Durga's idea in the first place. We can't just leave him in the jungle and hope he survives. He doesn't have the necessary skills. I don't think any of you do."

A light skinned human male with brown hair and a red shirt said, "He's been slowing us down this whole time!"

The man had a valid point. The fastest way would be to use her…no, _Jodo's_ jetpack and try transmit. But that would require getting everyone to trust her.

Her mind was set they would all go together, or she would go alone. They wouldn't leave Durga by himself.

"Either we _all_ climb, or I go up with my jetpack and _all_ of you go back to camp. I'm not leaving Durga by himself," she said in a forceful and clear tone.

Durga looked at the height of the mountain, gulped, and then turned his massive head to look at the others, "I'm for going back. Anyone else?"

The others formed a circle and started talking.

Mirta was sure everything would be okay but she paused for a moment when she heard a distinctive trilling.

* * *

Quoreal looked at the man he was trying to resuscitate. Obviously something had hit him over his right eye, leaving a bloody mark. The object had obviously broken the skin, but, after bringing alcohol and sterilizing both his own hands and the man's head, he had stuck a finger into the open skin, there was nothing to indicate any object had penetrated any deeper.

In Quoreal's self-admittedly unprofessional medical opinion, there was nothing wrong with this man other than a severe concussion. However, sleeping during a concussion dangerous, and this man was clearly out.

There were a number of Yuuzhan Vong techniques designed to stimulate the nervous system, all of which were quite painful, and had not, to Quoreal's knowledge been used on humans before. However, he knew that apart from their facial features the only major anatomical difference between humans and Yuuzhan Vong was the lack of kidneys in the latter.

He'd go ahead and try.

Gently rolling the man onto his stomach, Quoreal lifted the man's shirt and jabbed one of the spikes of the vonduun crab armor he wore instead of garments into the man's lower into the skin just above the man's lower vertebrae.

Five minutes past and no effect.

 _Idiot! A human's nervous tissue does not behave the same way our Qah cells do._

It was while he was rinsing the wrist spike in alcohol that the man gasped.

Quoreal dashed quickly to his side.

The man's eyes were wide open and focused on Quoreal.

"Where is _she?_ " He almost spat as he asked, his tone being that venomous.

"You mean the woman how asked me to keep you from dying?" Quoreal said.

The man's face calmed a bit. He smiled and chuckled, "She'd do that wouldn't she? Blow up my ship, force me to use public transport to bring her back to Concord Dawn, and then when I had my helmet off, hit me in the head and—ow!" He stopped from pain in his head. He put a hand on his forehead.

"Try to be still," Quoreal said.

"But still she's worried about me like I'm an old friend," he continued ignoring the Vong, "Still, maybe she thought she wouldn't have to kill me know that she has the armor."

Quoreal then realized exactly what was going on. Mirta had been the one who injured this man to get the Mandalorian armor.

"Who are you?" He asked the human.

"Jodo Kast, Concord Dawn Special Police. We're among the very few in the galaxy who get Mandalorian armor legitimately."

 _Your focusing on the wrong issue_ , Quoreal thought. Even newcomers to the galaxy like the Yuuzhan Vong had developed a set of opinions about Mandalorians and their daughter cultures' obsession with a particular armor style. His question was far more important.

"What did she do in the first place?"

He started to speak but as he turned his head again, a sharp feeling inside his brain prompted an intense scream, and then all was silence.

* * *

Cody had begun talking to a few other people who had spoken to the residents of this galaxy. Sanjay Petel had apparently gotten into an argument with one of this galaxy's humans for not speaking English, one of the five major Human languages that virtually everyone on Earth knew in common. From Sanjay's translator, Cody picked up more Basic vocabulary, which he used to negotiate the argument to a ceasefire.

They headed back toward the Milky Way side of the beach. Upon arriving, Sanjay called out to his son Muni. The boy came running to him and said something in Hindi that Cody recognized as "Dad, the Triceraton was teaching me a great game."

"What kind of game?" Sanjay asked as he put his son down from the hug.

"He called it _jotur_. Said it's a Quintesson version of chess. Said I reminded him of a younger version of himself."

Cody saw Sanjay raise his eyebrows.

"Stay with this man here for a minute." He then said to Cody, "If it's not too much trouble?"

" _Haan_ ," Cody answered in the affirmative.

The boy simply smiled at him.

While Cody Jones was babysitting, Sanjay Patel was having a serious discussion with his Triceraton neighbor.

"What did you say to my son?"

Zed Ram looked up from the chessboard to see an inquisitive human with an Indian complexion and accent. Having been raised hatched and raised on Earth, the lightly built Triceraton answered in Hindi with an obviously Texan accent, "I just said he reminded me of myself when I was his age."

"Because of the game?"

" _Haan_. He could detect some of my moves before I made them. I could do the same to his."

Sanjay's angry look faded.

"Can I ask you a favor?" he said in English.

"Shoot."

"Keep this a secret."

Zed nodded. "Can do." He cast a wary eye at his elderly Utrom employer. "I know how individuals can exploit the gifted."

Sanjay nodded, seeming to understand, and walked back to his son. The mostly-white human that Krang had been his usual rude self to the night before was with the child. He was not "gifted" in the same way that Zed and young Muni were, but Zed could feel that he would be a major player in upcoming events.

Shouts in a language Zed had never heard before caused him to look at the other side of the beach.

A tall sickly pale looking alien with many facial scars was walking toward them in great anger. He paused when reached Cody, maintaining some level of self-control.

The collective interaction of the Milky Way citizens' translators could render enough of the Basic this being spoke into a coherent sentence: "What exactly do you know about Mirta Rau?"

* * *

Mirta had gone to the top of the mountain and discovered three very disturbing things: they were on an island far from the central continent's mainland, the field that blocked off-world communications extended thousands of meters above the island's surface, and a message in Chiss kept repeating itself. She recognized one word: _Sith_. She had rushed back to the camp with this news, not expecting the welcome she received.

She had descended the mountain with Jodo's jet pack, and followed the path back to the beach only to find a mob staring at her, wanting blood. It was now late in the afternoon, the sun had not yet sat, but she half expected to see torches anyway. The Yuuzhan Vong, Quoreal Rapuung had assumed the mantle of leadership over the angry mob. Cody Jones and Durga the Hutt had apparently been arguing with him.

"If she wanted that guy dead why did she look for a doctor?" Cody's translator adapted his words into Basic though the grammar was slightly off.

"Yeah…and she seemed nice," Durga added.

"She may have wanted him to live but that doesn't answer why she was in custody in the first place, and her wound did end up killing him. She owes all of us answers," Rapuung said firmly as he walked away from the main group and approached Mirta.

"Listen to me," she said, knowing she was fully capable of killing the Vong if he tried to kill her. She was hoping it wouldn't come to that and raised her hands in non-aggressive posture.

"I didn't try to kill Jodo, just knock him unconscious—"

"-And take his armor," Rapuung finished her sentence for her.

Cody and Durga both stared at her.

Their trust in her was starting to break down.

"I needed it for protection!"

"Which brings me back to the question I asked Mr. Kast. What did you do!" Rapuung browbeat her.

"I protected someone on my homeworld!"

"Be specific!" Her self-appointed judge demanded. Then he heard a trilling noise.

Everyone from the Milky Way knew what that meant, and while most backed away when they saw a red broken triangle appear on the Yuuzhan Vong's chest, Cody moved forward and said, "Quoreal, get out of the way!" pushing him to the ground.

A Yautja hunter decloaked behind Mirta.

He pointed to her and said "Tung." Then he pointed to himself and said, "Cuang'hleth."

Then he surprised all the Milky Way residents by pointing to himself and the Mandalorian and saying, "Yautja."

Cody, still in half-lying half-sitting position after pushing Quoreal out of the way, said "She's not a Yautja, she's a human."

The Yautja then said in raspy but understandable English, "The way she moves, the style of mask, all are from the Tung clan. She's not the first _ooman_ to become Yautja in spirit."

The translator device was turning Cody and the Yautja's words into Basic while they spoke to each other. Mirta could not catch the word the Yautja said for "mask" but could tell he was identifying Mandalorian culture with one that originated on his planet. The name "Tung" sounded like "Taung" the extinct species who taught the first Manalorian humans in her own galaxy the ways of the warrior. The Yautja might be an ally.

Mirta quickly stood, pointed to herself and said in feigned proudness, "Yautja."


	3. 1-3 Unworthy Heir

AN: I'm not referencing King Willie from _Predator 2_ in this chapter. He's Jamaican, the oc referenced here is Haitian.

The beginning of the third day of their exile on Dathomir shocked all the Milky Way survivors, but none more so than Krang, the elderly Utrom.

The Yautja, calling himself "Baron Samedi," had offered to lead parties into the jungle to hunt down the local wildlife. His mask had the ability to tell which types of animal could be digested most species.

Someone for the people to look to as a leader. He would certainly be loved for keeping them fed, but he would also be feared, at least for the time being.

Yautja regarded other species as prey, excepting Utroms. Krang realized that the Yautja's apparent compassion was actually calculated self-interest.

 _It's stuck here with the rest of us._

The creature would require close observation to determine its true intention. Fortunately, Krang's "butler" belonged to a race who could normally match a Yautja in sheer physical strength. This one couldn't, but he had other advantages and was totally under Krang's psychological control.

Krang, a wrinkled ball of pink flesh with eyes, a mouth, and tentacles slithered over to his minion, who was playing a Quintesson chess game against himself.

"Zed!" Krang bellowed.

The slender Triceraton put his pieces away and folded the board.

"Yes, Master Craig," he said not bothering to mask his native Oklahoma City accent with an obviously fake British one.

Krang slithered up his back and whispered, "I have a mission for the first Triceraton Shredder."

"Should I don my armor?" Zed asked.

"No, the Yautja will know you as Zed Ram, a pathetic scrawny excuse for a Triceraton," then Krang added "Not that you'd be worthy prey anyway. If not for my control, the Foot would never have chosen you to be the new Shredder."

"You chose me because I have powers."

"Powers that make you a freak. If you didn't have them, you'd be a totally irredeemable freak of nature, a skinny Triceraton."

"I have muscles," the Shredder said defensively.

"But not bulging ones like your great-great grandfather Monza the gladiator. The ninja who shared your locker room knew you had his poster and were constantly comparing your own physique to his and were always coming up short."

"I hate you."

"Me?" Krang said in mock hurtness. "I'm the one who saw past your failings as a Triceraton, to see your 'powers' as talent. They've been more useful to the Foot than a hundred muscle bound Triceraton gladiators."

"You aren't the Foot. You've used us ever since Oroku Saki was the first Shredder in the 1980s."

"No, but I'm the one who chose you. Now be an obedient vassal and find out all you can about this Baron Samedi."

Krang slithered down the Shredder's arm.

Krang was right of course. The Yautja was becoming a significant figure in this "community." They needed to know whether he would be an ally or an enemy. He had already established an alliance with the Mandalorian female. The camps had interacted enough that the translators had essentially mastered Basic. He'd follow the Yautja for now, but the Shredder was eager to find out what the Mandalorian, Vong, and Hutt kept discussing amongst themselves.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"It all makes since," Mirta said, half crouched as she drew lines in the sand representing the island, the nearest possible shoreline and a hypothetical limit of the communications block. "The Chiss message said, 'Sith,' we're on an isolated island on Dathomir, one of the galaxy's most out-of-the-way planets, and something on this island is blocking communications to the outside."

"That doesn't prove a cult that's been dead for 130 years is behind all of it," Rapuung said his arms crossed.

"It's also pretty hard to imagine us actually meeting life from outside this galaxy crossing millions of light years to meet us," Durga said, "But it's happened twice in the last decade," he pointed to Quoreal and then across camp.

"The Yuuzhan Vong never became extinct during all our long years of wandering. The Sith died with Darth Sidious at the Battle of Endor."

"People also thought the Sith died out with Darth Bane," Mirta interjected.

Durga slightly nodded his enormous head.

"It is better if we keep a level head," Quoreal said before asking, "Can you even speak Chiss?"

"No," the woman in Mandalorian armor admitted.

"Then it could likely be that the message didn't even say 'Sith,' but some similar sounding Chiss word." Quoreal closed his eyes for a moment and then said, "Clearly something is blocking communications, but let's not jump to the conclusion that it's a cult with preternatural abilities. Besides there can only be two Sith at a time. Dathomir is too remote for them to be here permanently."

Durga and Mirta both nodded. Then Quoreal said something that hurt his own credibility in Durga's eyes:

"And we have to remember the fact that you are trying to draw our attention away from the important fact that you committed murder and your sole defender is probably the one who opened the wormhole and stuck the people from the other galaxy here in the first place."

Mirta swung a fist into Quoreal's jaw, forgetting that the Yuuzhan Vong had been culturally conditioned to enjoy pain.

Still, Quoreal winced and rubbed said jaw.

"Samedi scanned Jodo's skull. A microscopic piece of bone logged in his brain killed. I didn't know that that would happen when I knocked him out."

Quoreal grimaced. "Your intentions aside, he has more advanced technology at his disposal than anyone here. Did you see how scared the people from the Milky Way were? We have to consider the possibility that he's the one who trapped us here and is blocking our communications."

Durga remained silent as he contemplated what they were saying. Mirta was impossible to read behind her mask.

"You're judging him because he has superior technology and everyone was afraid of him. A Yuuzhan Vong of all people should know better than that!"

Quoreal stared back coldly. "It is precisely because I am Yuuzhan Vong that I know those are valid reasons."

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It was precisely because the current Shredder was lightly built for a Triceraton that he'd turned to ninjutsu in the first place. He, along with the human, Cody Jones, were quietly following Baron Samedi through the jungle.

As a member of the Foot offshoot founded by Oroku Saki, Zed Ram was trained to hate Jones-O'Neil tech and its hereditary CEOs from his initiation forward. Cody's ancestors had been regular thorns in the side of the first Shredder, events that were still within living memory for Krang.

The three of them were the last hunters out looking for a furry quadraped built like a miniature pony but with porcine features around the neck.

"So, Zed, why are you ought here with us? I thought Triceratons were herbivores?"

"Quiet, _ooman_!" Baron Samedi whispered in a harsh tone.

Zed obeyed their Yautja leader by not responding. Jones was going to learn the hard way that the jungle was no place for a CEO. You had to know certain things in order to survive in the wild, such as the fact that you still needed trace amounts of animal protein in your diet, even if you happened to be a mostly herbivorous Triceraton. Being a ninja for a criminal organization had helped mold Zed into the "Trishredatron," a figure of whom he could sometimes be proud, a figure of who could pay attention to the movements and sounds of the jungle while he contemplated internal matters. The creature was behind a bush a few meters ahead.

It did not know they were there. It was then that Jones's foot snapped a twig.

The idiot.

The beast ran deeper into the jungle.

"We've got to follow it!" Jones yelled.

" _We_ will," the Yautja pointed to Zed and himself. " _You_ go back to the beach."

Cody nodded, and suddenly the Trishredatron was gone as well. Only the pathetic Zed Ram remained, and he did not want to be alone with a Yautja hunter.

"You fear me, don't you, Triceraton?" Baron Samedi asked.

Shredder had to be careful.

"In all honesty, sir, yes."

"But you are determined not to turn back, and you hunt well. I respect that."

Krang had asked him to get the feel for this Yautja's agenda. He had respect. That was a good place to start.

"Would I be worthy prey?"

They Yautja trilled in his species' equivalent of a chuckle. "On another planet, probably. Here I need people to talk to."

Zed felt good to hear this. He was worthy prey after all, and the Yautja only hunted those they deemed worthy. For a moment the Trishreadtron felt like a worthy successor to both Monza Ram and Oroku Saki. And now he held the survival of this community in his hands if he could sway the Yautja.

"This community looks up to you, sir, and we need a leader."

"Don't call me, "sir." I'm not an elder and never will be. I am a Badblood by most Yautja's thinking."

Shredder then sensed that he'd overstepped his bounds. This Yautja was not interested in power, but if he were a Badblood, he'd probably have loose morals, and be a handy ally. He needed an opponent now. He needed to choose his words carefully.

"You may not want to lead, but unless you do something, Rapuung will."

Shredder could tell that Samedi was flaring his mandibles behind his mask.

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Shredder and Samedi returned from the jungle with the last of the horse-piglike creatures. Their hunting companions had all returned, Cody sitting some distance away. There was enough meat for everyone from the parties' combined totals. The esteem they had held the Yautja in only grew.

As numerous individuals surrounded him, slapped his back, and chanted his name, Shredder turned his eyes away from his hunting companion toward his Utrom employer.

"If you will excuse me."

Neither Shredder nor Krang noticed the long stare Samedi gave the Utrom.

Shredder brought a piece of meat on a stick for Krang. He took it in his tentacles and began to slowly devour the animal flesh.

"A bit gamey, but what can you expect from Yautja cooking?"

"Hopefully less than from Yautja politics," Shredder said as he crouched by Krang. "Turns out our friend is a Badblood, his only interest is the hunt. But he hates Quoreal, though."

"Who's Quoreal?"

"The Yuuzhan Vong," Shredder then, reading the look on Krang's face, said, "The grey-skinned guy from the other galaxy, long but thin black hair, facial scars…"

"Oh, him. He definitely is a key figure. It's good that the Yautja doesn't like him, better that the Yautja doesn't want power in his own right. We can use him."

"Excuse me," a woman asked in a Jamaican accent.

Zed looked up to see a dark skinned woman, obviously from the Carribean by her accent.

"How can we help?" Master Craig asked as Zed the butler bit his tongue.

"Are they calling the Predator what I think their calling him?"

Zed listened to the chants.

"Sa-me-di! Sa-me-di!"

"Does the name 'Samedi' mean anything to you?"

"Some of my ancestors were from Haiti. They spoke Creole. _Baron Samedi_ is the name of the Voodoo god of cemeteries and the dead. One of my ancestors was flayed and his spinal chord ripped from his body. It was in Haiti, during an uprising against the government in the 1980s. We know that it was a Yautja who killed him."

"And you think that it was this Yautja?"

"Where else would he get that name?" The woman marched off in the direction of the Predator while Krang and Shredder watched.

"Stop cheering him!" she yelled, but no one seemed to listen. She then screamed and got everyone's attention.

"Stop cheering that _thing_! My name is Claudelle Fontaine and this Yautja killed my ancestor 250 years ago in Haiti. He's not here to help us."

Everyone was silent. Baron Samedi slowly approached Claudelle, palms upturned, only to be shoved to the ground by Quoreal Rapuung, who was, in turn, pulled back by Mirta Rau.

"It seems as though war is here, and the alliances are not going to be based on galaxy of origin," Shredder observed.

"Apparantly not."


	4. 1-4 A Leader Emerges

AN: There are a lot of things in sci-fi I love to write about, but I have spiritual issues with Ridley Scott's Engineers from _Promethius._ I'm regarding _Predator, Predator 2, Alien vs Predator_ , _Alien vs Predator Requiem,_ and _Predators_ as canon with bits taken from Steve Perry's depiction of Predators. This is already not the canon _Alien_ timeline, but Aliens and Predators are kinda suited for non-canon crossovers from _Batman_ to _Mortal Kombat_.

* * *

Cody Jones could not believe the way the camp had divided. After Quoreal Rapuung had attacked Baron Samedi last night, virtually everyone who had hesitations about the Yautja from the Milky Way camp went over to the natives'. At the same time Mirta Rau and Durga the Hutt had defected to the Milky Way. The Noghri couple on the far end of the beach remained uncommitted, as did the three Utroms and the Triceraton butler.

If Cody understood the situation correctly, all they needed to was build a boat, head about a hundred kilometers east to the mainland and they would be able to send a signal off this planet. The question then was what to do about the new arrivals to this galaxy of which Cody had yet to hear the name.

The last time extragalatic beings had arrived here, it was the start of a three-year long War between the Galactic Republic and the Yuuzhan Vong that left three hundred trillion dead. That Quoreal was out and about in the galaxy at large made no sense to Cody, but he had made valid points about the other hothead of the camp.

Humans and Yautja had both been in this galaxy sometime in the distant past. Samedi had identified most everything in Mandalorian culture as having Yautja origins. Cody wasn't ready to gather an angry mob but the Yautja could possibly have created the wormhole as Quoreal had said. Back home their technology was not widely understood by outsiders and only Utroms and Quintessons had older cultures and more developed technology. If humans and Yautja had come here before, that made it possible that the wormhole had been here for millennia. If it truly were stable that meant that they could go back home through it, but that also meant it was probably artificially constructed. Since the other end was in the Cybertronian system, that made the Quintessons the most likely builders.

Regardless of the wormhole, what they needed most right now was a way off the planet, no—a way off the island first or they wouldn't be able to leave the planet.

So far wood that should be going to build a ship was being used in a barricade dividing the beach in two: Samedi in the west, Quoreal in the east. Cody thought that both of them were being extremely short-sighted.

The wall hadn't reached the shore yet, where the three Utroms were debating who to join.

Cody decided to talk to them and see if they had any useful ideas as the officially uncommitted.

The pregnant female, Shalx, was gently rubbing the bulb on the side of her head that would dislodge in a few days in the Utrom birthing process. The young male, Uxils seemed slightly dazed, with matter in his eyes and saliva on the edges of his mouth. They obviously needed a doctor, and the closest thing was a Yautja Hunter's supply kit. A Yautja hunter with whom "Mr. Craig" was exchanging menacing glares from across the beach.

"All right, young ones, I've reached a decision," Craig said to the two other Utroms just as Cody approached.

Zed Ram stepped forward and said, "Now's not the time, Jones!"

Craig turned to see Cody for himself.

"What do you want?"

"It just looks like two of you could use a doctor, and the closest thing there is here is a Yautja Hunter who you're having an angry staring contest with."

Cody didn't mean that to come out as angry as it sounded, but he was trying to force "Craig" to see how stubborn he was being.

"And I was perfectly ready to join his camp, until he started casting death threats at me with his eyes."

"But I notice you haven't gone over to Quoreal either..." Cody intentionally left the sentence hanging.

"I was about to head there… _she_ ," he pointed to Shalx, "took a little convincing. As you said the hunter has medical supplies."

Shalx slithered up and said, "Excuse me, Craig…if that really is your name, but it should be obvious why I need them, and it pretty obvious that he needs them too," she pointed to Uxils.

Craig then said something so insensitive, he lost all credibility in Cody's eyes:

"Would you please shut it? Utrom females gave birth in less than sanitary environments for millions of years before we had technology. You were the one stupid enough to travel in your last heptacycle."

Craig had a point but saying that was unbelievably insensitive.

"You can go to Quoreal then! I'm heading to Samedi!" She said, grabbing on to Uxlis's tentacle, "C'mon, Uxlis!" The male followed as she dragged.

Cody supposed Craig got what he deserved, so he let some humor back into his voice when he said, "Well, that turned out exactly the way you planed."

"Hahaha," Craig said sarcastically. "She acted in her best interest for once. I'm acting in mine. We need to convince Quoreal that the Yautja are too stupid to build an artificial wormhole, though this individual clearly bears me ill will. If only someone cared enough about our community to separate the Yautja from his tools…"

For all his unsavory scheming, Craig was right. Someone had to care about the community. Quoreal was too reactionary, and Samedi was a self-admitted Badblood, a Yautja without honor. And Craig obviously could not be trusted as leader….so who could the community turn to?

* * *

Cody was firmly on Samedi's side of the beach, not because he trusted the hunter, but because he needed answers from him. It helped that Mirta was a mutual ally to both of them. He approached the Badblood hunter who was talking to Mirta about whatever was blocking their communications.

The Mandalorian cocked her head.

"Cody! I'm glad you chose the right side."

Cody shook his head.

"I didn't choose a side Mirta. I'm here because I need to talk to the Baron," he said referring to Samedi.

"What is it _ooman_?"

He noted that the hunter still wore his mask.

"The camp is divided between you and Quoreal Rapuung. He and Cassidy have brought up certain questions that you need to answer to the people's satisfaction if you want to be our leader."

Samedi intuited that Cody wanted to see his face.

" _Tung_ ," Samedi said to Mirta, "We must remove our masks."

The Mandalorian removed her mask first, then the Yautja.

Cody had seen Yautja before. The mostly reptilian-yet-humanoid body belied the arthropod mandibles around his mouth and lack of obvious lips or nose. Samedi's skin was mostly dull yellow with the occasional black mottle. His eyes irises were bright yellow.

Mirta let out a slight gasp, as there were no pictures on Mandalore or Coruscant of unmasked Taung.

"Now I can only see you in infrared, _ooman_ , but you can see my face, read my expressions. I have no intention to lead, but my purpose here should be clear."

Studying, the hunter's eyes, Cody slowly asked, "How did you get here?"

Samedi couldn't see Cody's eyes but knew from experience where they would be on the red form questioning him. Their gazes met.

"I came the same way you did, _ooman_ , on your ship."

Cody laughed.

"Since when do Yautja hunters use public transport."

"I went where my prey went. I'm not hunting for mating rights; I'm hunting for vengeance."

Cody felt a chill go down his spine.

"Why would you want revenge on Cassidy when you killed her ancestor?"

Samedi growled and flared his mandibles.

"Not her, you stupid _ooman_! By all rights she should have vengeance on me. It is the Utrom, Krang, that I hunt!"

Mirta didn't recognize the name but she could tell it was very important to Cody.

"You think Craig is Krang? What did he do to you?"

Samedi intensified his gaze.

"My mother led a noble house. My father was successful on many hunts and could have had any female during the mating season, but always chose her as his mate. 350 years ago, Krang tried to sell my mother advanced weaponry in exchange for protection against the Utrom authorities. She refused and he killed her. My father failed to protect her, so the elders killed him. Krang must pay with his life!" Samedi's mandibles flared again.

"And Cassidy?"

"My first hunt as a blooded warrior. I killed her ancestor but I also saw his wife and boy bury him. I realized I had become to them exactly what Krang had become to me. I renamed myself after their version of Cetanu, the god of death. I found no honor in killing innocents anymore and taking their heads as trophies. I was never free from this shame, so I kept the name."

"How do you know Craig is Krang?"

"An informant. I no longer honor Yautja ways but I still use my skills as a bounty hunter for those who are guilty. My contact's information is always accurate."

Cody had not got the sense that Samedi meant what he said. He crouched, prompting Samedi to do the same, put his mask back on and toggle threw the different viewing spectrums until he saw Cody in the human's vision range.

"I will talk to Quoreal about Krang for you. In the meantime, there are two Utrom who need your medical skills."

"What if he doesn't believe you? I want Krang dead!"

"Do you want to risk killing an innocent? I'll make sure he gets a trial. If he really is Krang than you will be doing the universe a favor."

Samedi let out an all too human chuckle.

"Are you sure that you shouldn't be the leader of this group, _ooman_?"

* * *

Quoreal Rapuung stopped pacing when Zed Ram who stood on the barricade said, "It looks like Jones and the Mandalorian want to speak."

"How can you be sure?"

"He's waving a white cloth from a stick. On Earth a white flag means surrender or negotiations."

Quoreal stroked his chin and said, "Bring them to me."

He headed toward the position where the beach met the jungle. Cassidy Fontaine, his most valuable insight into the Yautja mind, was lying on a towel in front of her tent there.

She saw Qoureal approach and could tell he was preoccupied.

"This isn't a social visit?" She said, more as a statement than a question.

"No, two of the hunter's people are coming here to 'negotiate.'" He twisted his mouth and crouched with the last word. Now that he was closer to her level he said, "You're our expert on the hunters. I want you with me when we talk."

Cassidy smiled but then said, "I don't know that much about the Yautja, except what they did to my family. Craig is the expert."

Quoreal looked back toward the seaward side of the camp, trying to find the Utrom.

"He may be, but," Quoreal hesitated to say the next part answered quickly enough that the human female might not notice his hesitation or guess the reason behind it, "I trust you more."

She laughed, "You don't know any of us."

She was right.

Still…

"No one trusts Craig. That automatically makes you more trustworthy."

That was true, and hopefully it dispelled the real reason why he wanted to be with her from her mind.

Speaking of Craig, his butler returned with Cody Jones and Mirta Rau in tow. Quoreal turned to face them.

"Greetings Mr. Jones," Quoreal said ignoring Mirta, "Clearly your leader will not speak to me face to face, so—"

"Samedi's not our leader. Cody is," was Mirta's unbidden defiant reply.

Cassidy's mouth fell open, and Quoreal stood.

"What game is your leader playing?" The Vong demanded.

"I'm not playing any games," Cody said. "I'm trying to keep us from destroying one another while we are stuck here together. I've already got," not wanting to say "Baron Samedi" around Cassidy, "the…um…hunter's concession."

"His terms?" Quoreal demanded.

"That we find out if Craig is the same Utrom as Krang." Cassidy looked at Cody, shocked. Rapuung did not know the name, not being familiar with Milky Way history but he could see the color drain out of Craig's Triceraton butler.

"I take it Krang is a figure who has caused much distress in your galaxy?"

"Much. The Yautja was cloaked when he came on board our ship in the Milky Way. He's a bounty hunter. He wants Krang."

Cassidy stood up, indignant.

"You expect us to believe that. He killed my ancestor for sport!"

"And it reminded him of something that happened to his own family. He's been a Badblood ever since then," Cody argued, "rejecting conventional Yautja ideas about hunting. He keeps the name he learned in Haiti to remind him of his shame, not pride!"

 _So, Samedi might_ _be like myself_ , Quoreal remembered all the things he had done to the Republic's "Infidels" during the Yuuzhan Vong War, things that haunted him to this day.

"How do you know that he's telling the truth!" Cassidy demanded.

"He deserves the benefit of the doubt. I think our new leader has the right idea," Quoreal gestured to Cody. Cassidy stomped off angrily.

Quoreal ran after her calling her name.

Mirta reflected on what had just happened. "Well, looks like we're united now, mostly."

"Yeah, mostly," Cody said, then remembered the anxious look on Zed's face the first day there.

He turned to ask the Triceraton, only to see him on his knees hear him speak in a quivering voice, "My employer is not Krang, sir. I want Krang to be brought to justice, but my employer is not him."


	5. 1-5 Misunderstandings

AN: The Noghri are probably my favorite species from the old _Star Wars EU_. My description of them is based on the way they were depicted in the _Last Command_ 's comic adaptation, at least for the males. I've only seen the _Dark Force Rising_ 's comic's depiction of Noghri females. Grand Admiral Thrawn is part of Star Wars canon again but don't know if we'll have direct references to the Noghri or what they look like. Until we do I'm sticking with descriptions above.

It was still the fourth day of their exile on Dathomir, with aliens from another galaxy, and Meewal and Rukh Clan Khim'bar had already exhausted the food they had preserved from the ship.

The bald female with cranial ridges and hairless blue-gray skin looked at her husband. He stroked the long ponytail on the back of his head, the only hair on his own body, as he met her gaze. No words needed pass between them to know the topic.

"You would've been a _Maitrakh_ one day and I'm still your husband. Tell me your orders and I will obey."

If she permitted her heart to interact with her head, it would be Rukh's loyalty that bothered her. Unlike most societies in the galaxy, Noghri traced descent and property through the female line, but as most elsewhere, warriors were usually male. A _Maitrakh_ had complete dominion over her clan's land's on Honoghr, but she had to represented by her husband, the clan _Dynast_ in the Grand Council at the capital of Nystao.

Here on Dathomir, everywhere was outside Meewal's domain. Rukh had to represent her everywhere they went and that terrified her.

Once, her husband had been a Noghri of noble character, despite a humble background on his mother's side. Meewal could have had her choice of the _Maitrakhs'_ sons from any other clan, but she had chosen this decent yet low born male to be her husband, the next _Dynast_ for Clan Khim'bar when her mother died and she became _Maitrakh_.

Marriage had changed him for the worse. She had lost count of the times she had seen him walk in with a knife to the throat of someone who had tried to enter her room. In the small and peaceful lands of Clan Khim'bar where virtually everyone knew everyone else by at least six degrees, such behavior was unheard of—especially in a future Dynast.

If Meewal had to pinpoint a time when her husband changed it was when they went to Nystao with her parents for the first time as a married couple. An assassin from Clan Baikh'vair almost succeeded in killing her mother.

After that she had seen him become an increasingly threatening figure to everyone except herself and her parents. He had even accused her own sisters and even her brother of wanting the leadership for themselves.

Politics had corrupted the once decent Noghri she'd married. She came to doubt that he really loved her and wanted only to be a _Dynast_. More than doubt, to believe that. She had decided to leave without telling anyone, departing on a freighter to Ryloth only to find Rukh waiting for her when her ship landed.

She did not ask how he found her, she only blatantly told him that she was not going to become a _Maitrakh._

His words shocked her.

"I don't want to be a _Dynast_. I just want to be with you."

That brought her mind back to the present.

"See if you can trade something for food."

Rukh bowed and picked up a handful of trinkets without noticing what they were. He then left the beachside cave and made his way to the interior of the camp. He saw the Yuuzhan Vong who had become their leader talking with a dark-skinned human female who he remembered as being from the other galaxy by the speech she gave the night before. Rukh could not even speak Basic let alone the aliens' language, but he recognized the word "Yautja" in the conversation. It was the same word she'd called the masked hunter last night, so he guessed it was a species name.

The beings from his own galaxy had no translator devices, so he would have to turn to one of the aliens.

He saw a brown-skinned human male and his son at the oceanside with a Mon Calamari. Fortunately, the human was relying on a translator as his conversation with the Mon Calamari indicated he didn't know the Basic word for "fish".

The Noghri were farmers, and occasionally hunters, but lacking major bodies of water on their sole inhabited continent, they had few fishermen. Rukh wasn't one by any means, but maybe this human could teach him.

With all the stealth that the Noghri were known for, he approached the group from behind. Being only slightly taller than the human boy, Rukh had to stretch to tap the adult's shoulder.

The human turned, startled, and asked something Rukh interpreted as either "Who are you?" or "What do you want?"

Rukh pointed to himself and said, " _Rukh nast Khim'bar_."

The human responded, "Sanjay Patel." He repeated his question which Rukh now meant "What do you want?"

Rukh pointed to the water and said, " _Sopuci_."

The boy said something to his father who then said a sentence containing a word he'd used with the Mon Calamari, "fish."

Rukh knew what that word meant now.

The man then asked Rukh a question using the words "want" which Rukh remembered from earlier and "catch".

Not understanding the new word Rukh said it in a questioning tone.

The nearby Mon Cal gestured to the fishing pole and cast it into the water.

Rukh put things together and said in grammatically incorrect Hindi, Sanjay's language that he just heard, "Rukh want catch fish."

Rukh then reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out a bronze clasp that had the crest of Clan Khim'bar, a black circle bordered by a black hexagon, engraved upon it. Meewal's father had given it to Rukh just before the wedding. It was the most valuable object he had. He held it out to Sanjay and said "Take" in Honoghran.

Sanjay answered in a sentence and a tone that Rukh instantly understood because of one word: "I don't want it."

Rukh ignored the rest of what the human was saying. He had just called the crest of Rukh's clan worthless! He had not insulted the human in any way and was trying to display the highest level of gratitude he knew when this man had told him his clan's honor had no value!

Rukh, already much shorter and faster than a human, and already in a kneeling position, sprung on Sanjay and knocked him backward, creating a splash. The human's head was still above the water which was exactly where Rukh wanted it.

Screaming in the Honoghran tongue about how Sanjay had insulted his family's honor, Rukh spit on the clueless human's face.

Rukh was completely surprised when he found that the Mon Cala had head-butted him and was holding him down.

Sanjay stood and looked down at the crazy alien.

He asked something in his own human language which Rukh didn't care to guess-translate. Rukh was the wronged party, that should be obvious.

The Mon Cala, responding to his translating device, said something derogatory about the Noghri. Rukh raised his head, looked at Sanjay, protested that he had offered to reward Sanjay with something conveying the utmost gratitude, and the human had trampled his family honor into the dust. He knew the human wouldn't understand but he was past caring, so it came as a shock when the human boy said something, and Rukh felt the boy in his mind. He knew the general meaning of what the boy was saying though he recognized none of the words: "Dad, he wanted to give you a token of his appreciation for teaching him to fish. It was a symbol of honor in his family and he thought you were calling it worthless."

So, there had been no insult at all, save that which Rukh had given to the human. More important than the apology he owed the human father was the matter of this boy. The boy had to be a Force user, like the Noghri's grate benefactor Kylo Ren.

"Jedi?" Rukh asked pointing to the boy. The Mon Cal translated for Sanjay.

Sanjay looked at his son and said something, and then said something to the Mon Cal in a defensive tone.

The boy looked to Rukh.

 _Don't tell anyone_.

Rukh nodded. He apologized to the boy for what he had done to his father.

"He's sorry, Dad. This was all a big misunderstanding…and he'll keep quiet."

Rukh looked to Sanjay who held out a hand.

"Why don't we start over?"

Rukh nodded, the boy still translating the feelings. He pointed to himself while looking at the boy, " _Goho dum Rukh._ "

" _Meera naam hai Muni."_

The basic words for "my name is" had been established.

Rukh pointed to the father and his translator translated the Honoghran into Hindi with correct grammar but incorrect culture, "Your name is Sanjay Clan Patel."

"Close enough," Sanjay said.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Meewal waited hours for Rukh to return, during which time she'd managed to pick up a few things: she knew more Basic than her husband. Quoreal Rapuung had surrendered leadership to a human from the other galaxy, a certain Cody Jones. The Yautja that led the other camp had done the same.

Meewal was uneasy about this. Everything the humans said about the Yautja reminded her of the Trandoshan who hunted Wookies for sport. The Wookies were one of the few species that Nohgri actively maintained cultural exchanges with, due to their similar honor codes.

Meewal smiled.

 _Honor_. It meant different things to different people and could be used to justify just about any action. She wanted to escape from Honoghr and live on one of the Core Worlds were people didn't take such things so seriously.

If she had been born on Coruscant, she could have the education she wanted, focused on the subjects she wanted, statecraft not being one.

Meewal suddenly realized that Rukh's overprotective behavior had been a pretext for her fleeing Honoghr, but not the underlying reason. She'd always wanted to leave and hand to the duties of _Maitrakh_ over to someone more qualified. She had been concerned and fearful about her husband's behavior, but even that was tied to her being a _Maitrakh_ in waiting.

Now she had both her husband and, provided they could get off Dathomir a chance at a better life on one of the Core Worlds.

And now that camp was united, the first part of that goal, getting off Dathomir, was closer than ever.

"Beloved," she turned her head to see Rukh enter the cave at the sound of his voice. He was holding a lavender scaled fish on his upturned palms.

"I caught this with the aid of one of the humans from the other galaxy."

Meewal eyed the sample of aquatic fauna.

"You're no fisherman husband. Be honest and say the human caught it for you,"

"Well," Rukh admitted, slightly chuckling, "he guided me through the process."

Meewal was confused.

"It took time for their translators to master Basic. How could you learn to fish from him in just two hours?"

"Mostly by pointing."

This answer made since, but Meewal recognized the look in her husband's eyes and tone in his voice that would be so easy to miss were she not so use to it.

"There is something you're hiding."

Silence. Why wouldn't he answer or even look at her.

"Did you use violence on him?" Meewal asked accusingly.

"Only because I thought he insulted our clan when he wouldn't accept payment." She read defensiveness written into Rukh's posture and face, followed by shame.

"He only meant that payment was not necessary. I was the one who insulted him."

"How did you find out what he meant?"

Silence again.

"How did he understand you?"

Meewal didn't accept the silence this time. She was about to speak when Rukh finally answered with pleading eyes, "Please accept that I'm bound not to tell you."

She could tell that he was following yet another form of _honor_. She hated that word.

She started to look away in anger, when Rukh took the fish in one hand and put the other on his wife's shoulder.

"I can't say much, but they are good people. I just can't betray the trust they put in me."

 _They?_ Was he trying to help a family with a secret? She could appreciate that, but why not let her in?

Meewal finally nodded. Her husband was the best example of why _honor_ was such a self-destructive trust eroding concept. He took everything too literally and she already knew it to be futile to ask to point these humans out to her in person.


	6. 1-6 Meaning

Uxils moaned quietly as the gargantuan Yautja hunter scanned his internal organs with one of the different vision spectrum filters on his helmet. He listened to the Yautja say things to him, but he didn't care. So what if everyone knew he was addicted to sektocomines, Utrom pain killers. It was just another chapter in a life that would never get any validation.

He'd been the lyricist for an Utrom band, _Space Squids._ He'd never been on the stage but it was his words that made everyone famous. He didn't expect to get any fans given his obscure role, but he thought he was part of the team, until it was time to divide the money from the first album. Everyone in the band was supposed to get an equal share. That's when he learned he wasn't technically in the band. He'd not been happy, but he'd accepted it. Then, five years later, at the height of their fame the real members of the band decided to retire. That would have been okay, had the lead vocalist not said, "No one wants to hear your stupid nihilist lyrics anymore."

He'd had a point. While most sentients, especially humans and Quintessons, might have liked his challenging there being a such thing as objective truth, all most everyone except humans and Quintessons, especially Utroms, hated the catch: no objective meaning. That didn't even sit well with all humans.

If Uxils were truly honest with himself, he wanted his life to have objective meaning. He'd connected it with his songs. If they were a failure, so was he.

He wanted his life to have verifiable meaning and significance, but he wanted it to be objective. He already knew his songs were good; he wanted the galaxy to know. Surely, a majority of opinions had to make truth if you didn't believe there was a higher power who really could say this was objectively good and that was objectively bad. He'd lost his faith when he'd had a Quintesson guest professor for comparative evolution.

But still Uxil's life had to matter to someone on an objective level. His music had failed him, so he turned to prescription drugs to numb the pain, but it went too deep. He needed more and more until he was finally addicted. It had never really been about taking drugs to feel good in his place, it had been about taking them to _not_ feel bad, right from the beginning.

His mind, dimly aware of the present, thought he heard the Yautja say "Utrom" and "other camp." It didn't matter. He felt sick enough to die. Then, if he still existed, it would have to be on another plane, a place where he could get his objective meaning. But a part of him hesitated. It made no sense: if this life was all there was, then what did it matter if he died today or tomorrow? But something told him, if there was a higher plane, deliberately overdosing would be cheating.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Yautja hunter known only as Baron Samedi jerked his head from looking over the delirious Utrom's body to Durga the Hutt. The Yautja had been silently looking at the Utrom for the past several minutes. His sudden shift in attention almost startled Durga.

"Keep watch over him. I need to visit the other camp!"

The very idea seemed ludicrous to Durga.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? They want to kill you over there!"

"Jones is working on that. I only need to talk to Krang."

Durga was confused.

"Who?"

"The elderly Utrom who went to the other camp. He might have supplies that can help us."

Samedi then entered a code on his wrist armor and disappeared apart from visual distortions in the surroundings in the direction where he was walking.

Durga turned his enormous head to look at the Utrom.

The little creature was mostly still but every once in a while, he'd shudder or mumble something.

"Mmmh… _why?"_

Durga tried to respond.

"'Why' what?"

" _Nothing really matters."_

There was a long time before the Utrom said anything again, giving Durga time to think. Nothing his family, the Besadii Kejidic on Nal Hutta, really cared about actually mattered. They'd murdered once trusted advisors who came to know too much and sacrificed their own lives for money. His father got a blaster to the forehead when a Twi'lek underboss that his main Desilejic rival had alienated decided to be done with Hutts.

All to get rid of a rival and increase his own power and influence.

They already had enough wealth and influence to live like royalty on most planets, and his dad had died for no other reason than to acquire more of it. If happiness were truly something you could buy, then they should have already bought it.

" _No higher meaning."_

Durga stopped for a minute. This guy was saying nothing had any meaning at all? Durga couldn't buy that. There had to be some kind of meaning to everything. What this Utrom guy was even thinking was too depressing…it was no wonder that he was in this shape.

If nothing had any meaning then…Durga didn't even want to go there. Thinking along those lines had clearly not done this guy any favors. It sounded too similar to the Sith teaching that good and evil were simply points of view and no more.

This guy was obviously going to need therapy when, if, he recovered.

Suddenly, he twitched slightly, and mumbled, _"Meaning after all?"_

Durga did not know if this was a good sign or a bad, until he saw a smile form on the Utrom's lips.

" _On this planet for a reason?"_

Durga felt a chill run through his central nervous system. Odds were that this guy was having reaction to the withdrawal he was suffering. Still things were getting a little too specific. The next bit seemed to trouble the Utrom as much as it troubled Durga: _"Warn the Triceraton!"_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Quoreal had been gone for about ten minutes, and was just now heading back to Cody when everyone heard a trilling sound.

"He's here." Cody said to the Yuuzhan Vong.

Quoreal kept his eyes focused on the source of the trilling.

"Uncloak and let's discuss things."

Samedi obliged, most of the camp cringing.

"Can the two of you work together?" Cody asked, just now realizing that the sun was setting.

"I need to see Krang!" Samedi said.

"I told you that we were going to have a trial," Cody began only to be interrupted.

"Not for vengeance, _ooman_. For my patient. Withdrawals from Utrom painkillers."

Quoreal remembered his own attempt as a medic with Jodo Kast and how horribly that backfired.

"You may have better luck if you didn't call him 'Krang.' You're assuming his guilt before its even been proven." Then Quoreal added in a tone that didn't seem to match his earlier anger and suspicion toward the Yautja, "I'll find Craig and ask him."

Quoreal then headed off to Craig's camp which Cody, Mirta, and Samedi could see off in the distance, just in front of a cave where a male Noghri was bringing a fish.

Cody quickly noted that while Craig was already inside the one Utrom-sized tent he'd brought on his escape pod, his butler was standing near a sleeping bag. One had to stay outside. Thankfully this was a tropical region.

Quorreal was speaking with Zed who was obviously making some threats when the Utrom finally emerged and gave the Yuuzhan Vong the filthiest tongue lashing that anyone on that beach had ever heard. Then Craig eyed the Yautja and began crawling toward him.

"Don't kill him," Cody said to Samedi.

Samedi remained silent until "Craig" was in front of him.

"I hate to disappoint the voodoo god of cemeteries, but I'm not Krang and certainly don't have any of the illegal drugs the Foot deal in." He salivated on Samedi's foot with each sibilant that came out of his mouth. "Fortunately, my butler is a talented…" Craig searched for the right word, "Chiropractor?"

Zed stepped forward and clasped his hands together over his chest.

"Can you help him?" Cody asked?

"Make his withdrawal symptoms easier to bear."

"This isn't scientific!" Mirta responded.

"I said 'help' not 'cure'. This most certainly _is_ psychological."

"I accept," Samedi, the closest thing they had to a doctor, said ending the matter.

Almost immediately the Yautja and Triceraton set out toward the other camp, while Cody, Mirta, and Quoreal began arguing with Craig.

When they were out of hearing range, Samedi asked, "Why did you want me to assume a position of leadership?"

"At the time Quoreal was acting too much like a hothead, and you were the only one who could stop him," Zed replied.

That answer wasn't satisfactory. Triceratons had long been among the Yautja's most favored prey, and had long tried to expand their own dominions into Yautja Space. Why should this one favor an archenemy over a total unknown?

He knew that Krang had a new second-in-command, a Triceraton Shredder. Samedi would say nothing but he would observe the Trishreddatron very closely.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Uxils was sleeping comfortably, in a state of blissful tranquility, when he heard an angry "You brought me here for nothing!"

He cracked his eyes slightly open until he could see Craig's butler and Samedi standing a little too close to him. He propped himself up on his tentacles and seemed to be acclimated to his surroundings when he noticed that something was not quite right.

The silence, that's what it was. Why was everyone so silent?

He looked at the eyes of the Triceraton, Yautja, and Hutt, and noticed that they were all starring at him.

"Guys, what is it?"

"You're recovering from sektocomine addiction. Utrom don't normally respond to withdrawals very well. You should be having fevers and chills, not sleeping peacefully and waking up alright," Samedi said. "Please lie back down and go back to sleep."

Uxils stretched a tentacle and said, "Don't really feel like it."

Samedi flared his mandibles behind his mask. "Fine, but don't complain when you overexert yourself!"

"Since there's no further need for me here," Craig's butler rose to his feet and walked off across the beach. Samedi watched the Triceraton and then returned to the wood and vine tent he'd constructed for himself.

Only the Hutt remained.

"So did you find the meaning you were looking for?" the subdermal translator/atmosphere adaptor in Uxils's first right tentacle responded from the Hutt's Basic.

Uxils mouth fell open.

"How?!" He didn't need to clarify, the meaning was obvious.

"You talked while you were asleep."

That should have relieved Uxils but it didn't. The joy he'd felt at there being a higher power who could give real objective meaning to his life disappeared. In all likelihood everything that had happened was just the drugs affecting his mind.

"I thought I did," he said regretfully.

The Hutt then let his eyes wander to a position at the center of the beach. By now the sun had gone down, and a human was standing in the middle of the beach with a torch. Uxils began to watch as well.

"My name is Cody Jones," the human said in a loud voice. "Like many of you, four days ago, I was ripped from my native galaxy when our ship passed through a wormhole. I've seen those of us from the Milky Way begin to build friendships with those of us who are native to this galaxy. But the navigation controls on all our escape pods malfunctioned when we entered this planet's atmosphere. We are now all stranded on an island where we can't send out communications, either off world or to the rest of this planet. We need to work together and quit letting interspecies quarrels from either galaxy get in the way of any of us getting to our homes and loved ones. Those of us from the Milky Way may be wondering how we can still get home. We know that humans and Yautja have traveled between our two galaxies in the past. There has got to be a way for us to get back and maybe keep that way open so we can all learn from each other. We are on this planet for a reason."

Cody's speech didn't end there, but in that moment Uxils felt joy again. That was the message that entered had entered his mind. He would believe. However, his new joy came with a new burden.

Ignoring the rest of Cody's speech, he said to the Hutt, "I've got to talk to Craig's butler!"

"Who?" the Hutt looked confused.

"The Triceraton!"

The Hutt was still confused.

Uxils knew that the Triceraton was a very gifted individual who could do a lot of good, but he was under considerable influence from evil people, and if he was not rescued from that influence, he would become the greatest evil the universe had ever seen.


	7. 1-7 Krang, The Criminal King

AN: Bebop and Rocksteady were my favorite characters from the 1987 TMNT Cartoon, but I prefer the 2003 Cartoon because it had so much with the Triceratons. Not that familiar with the 2012 version. Kiande Amedha is Steve Perry's Yautja language for Aliens. It literally means "hard meat." The Transformers themes here are post-Beast Machines but some elements have been altered.

Zed knew this morning was going to be tough on him, but he didn't expect it to this hard.

Jones, Rapuung, and Samedi had just carried Krang away to his "trial." If the human and Vong controlled things, Krang would probably escape intact and his "Craig" identity would be more solid than ever. If the Yautja controlled things, Krang would be dead and the Trishreddatron would fallow.

That was enough to stress about on its own, but Shredder had the additional problem of a drug-addict Utrom who claimed to have had some spiritual experience.

There the two of them were, starring out across the Dathomiri ocean, the wall separating the formerly separate camps being dismantled by their fellow survivors.

"You do know that what you're saying could just be the result of your withdrawals?" Zed Ram told Uxils.

"No. It wasn't. And you have got to stay away from evil influences."

"And it doesn't strike you as coincidence that everyone thinks my employer is Krang, I get sent to help you with those powers you know I don't like to talk about, that your confused brain thinks I'm the most important being in the universe and my employer is pure evil?"

Shredder saw the Utrom scuttled to the side on his tentacles, struggling between not looking angry, and genuinely looking concerned. Shredder could tell that Uxils wanted concern to win, but offense had already secured victory.

"I never said you were the most important being, nor even the most gifted, just that you were very gifted. The idea behind being blessed is that is for someone else's benefit."

"That's an Utrom belief. I'm a Triceraton. If I have been given gifts by a supposed creator of the universe, shouldn't he want to use them to prove his existences?"

Uxils curled a tentacle under his chin and said, "Maybe He wants you to show His love as proof."

Shredder scoffed. "The closest thing to a god I can think of in galatic history was Unicron. Power was most important to him."

"Well, Unicron was obviously not God."

"Now you're the one twisting my words. I said 'closest.'"

Uxils had to choose his words carefully. Triceratons were polytheists with a very large pantheon. From Zed's prospective perspective, where gods were elemental beings, Unicron probably did fit that qualification.

He tried a different approach.

"An Omnipotent Omniscient Creator is something infinitely beyond even the most powerful being you can conceive."

Zed was quick to responded.

"Which is why Triceratons don't believe in one. We believe that a mortal mind can with enough time and information can solve anything. Even the most complex scientific theories are comprehendible to the scientists who work with them. Something beyond comprehension cannot exist."

Uxils looked across the ocean.

"Maybe you are overestimating our abilities."

"And maybe you are underestimating them. Every single thing you told me can be explained away by coincidence."

"As that one guy said in the old Earth film The Mummy Returns, 'There's a fine line between coincidence and fate.'"

Fate…now Shredder could conceive of a goddess of destiny, and right now he prayed that she would keep Krang's secret.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Krang was on the floor in Jones's tent. The human sat with crossed legs directly opposite him. The Yautja and the Vong each stood on opposite sides of the human.

"Craig," Jones said, "You're here because Baron Samedi thinks that you are Krang. I've just finished explaining to Quoreal what Krang has done in the Milky Way Galaxy. However, we can't prove you are Krang, so Baron Samedi is going to use his mask to read your blood pressure and when we ask you certain questions, and record the time it takes for you to respond. If you are suspicious enough, he'll hand you over to Utrom authorities when we get home. Do you understand?"

Krang nodded uncomfortably.

Samedi winced at those terms, he wanted to kill Krang in person, but then he reminded himself that he wanted to be sure, as he already had one innocent's blood on his hands.

"'Craig' is not an Utrom name. Where did you get it?" Quoreal asked.

Krang saw the truth was his best bet here, and a way to take control of this scenario with a story he'd already rehearsed, one that was apart from dates and names, essentially true.

"I was one of the first Utrom to take up official residence on Earth in the late 2100s. I got my name from two young human neighbors of mine."

He'd actually come to Earth in the 1980s, but the rest was true. Bebop and Rocksteady could never pronounce "Krang" for some reason and always said to him, "But…um Craig…"

It had annoyed Krang at first and even Oruku Saki began doing it when he saw how much it annoyed him. Still there was something about those two former humans that was just so stupid—they brought a touch of amusement to the old Utrom's heart. He didn't even think of them as humans after he mutated them, just as a retarded warthog and rhino that needed a special, almost parental, level of guidance.

"They were both from low-income families, so I helped with their education. Payed their way to college," Craig said slowly in a convincingly fond yet characteristically gruff voice. "I never had any children of my own, so I kinda 'adopted' them. One lives in Florida now, the other in Wisconsin. I'd like to see them again." Krang let a genuine tear flow with his last sentence.

Krang, responsible for so many deaths and atrocities across the Milky Way, actually cared about these two mutants. He didn't really realize it until they were both dead. He missed their stupidity and their need of him, precisely because it was so parental. It would take someone more evil than Krang to kill their own children, and that's what Bebop and Rocksteady were to Krang, at least since he mutated them; forget Oroku Saki and Baxter Stockman; Krang was their father.

His tale was far different: the last of the neighbor boys had moved out by 2203, still they had shaped the way the old Utrom viewed Earth, and subsequently the galaxy at large. Still, the last sentence, where he shed a tear was completely true. It could win the entire interrogation for Krang, all the more so for a reason completely unknown to him.

After a youngblood Yautja named Yeyinde, "Rrave one," completed his first hunt against the kiande amedha, he, like all blooded warriors was permitted to mate. That union had produced a daughter, a daughter he had not been able to see since he declared himself a Badblood and became "Baron Samedi."

Krang was a heartless monster who could not care for a child whether it was his or merely adopted. Yet, everything Samedi's helmet told him about the Utrom's blood pressure and hormone distribution told him that he did really love those two ooman boys he was talking about.

Samedi had been more certain than anyone that this Utrom was Krang, but if he doubted, how could anyone else convict? He supposed such acting was in Krang's repertoire, but he could never be sure that he was not shedding innocent blood. Had he been any other Yautja, he could take his revenge no questions asked, though he wouldn't be able to claim an Utrom as a trophy. But not every Yautja had lost a parent the way he had, and made the connection that he done the same thing to an ooman boy in Haiti. His own definition of honor still allowed blood for blood, but he also realized that Claudelle Fontaine had equal right to his own head.

"And your Triceraton butler?" Quoreal asked.

"One of the boys is a CEO in a hover car company. Gave me a nice stipend. Hired myself a butler. We occasionally still do each other favors." Krang wanted that much to be true, but in reality both were gone. Utroms simply lived too long, or once human mutants too short. They'd outlived the first Shredder though. Considering their horrible personal hygiene, the warthog and rhinoceros mutations had probably lengthened their lives.

Yeyinde could tell from Craig's vitals that he was thinking of something pleasant.

Cody had to throw in a question here given Quoreal's lack of knowledge of the Milky Way.

"You were on Cybertron for a business trip for your protégé?"

"Well, where better to make a deal in the transportation industry. The Cybertronians' ancestors could transform into vehicles," Craig snarled and chuckled. The rude, irritable, speciest, old Utrom neighbor who got on everyone's nerves was back.

He clearly had personality flaws, but given everything that he had just said, they couldn't conceive of him being anymore a criminal than of the rest of them.

Baron Samedi simply said, "He is not Krang," and jerked his head.

"No apology?" Krang whined. "If it wasn't for you I'd have never been drug here in the first place!"

"I've done nothing to apologize for."

The Yautja left the tent.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The fact that Cybertron was inhabited by "technorganics" still made Quoreal uneasy, even after most Yuuzhan Vong had abandoned their old beliefs. Once they considered all non-biological technology to be an abomination. Three hundred trillion had died in their recent war with the galaxy partly because of that belief.

Quoreal noticed something: he already thought of this galaxy as simply "the" galaxy, like all its natives even though he was as much an alien as their new guests from the Milky Way.

Their existence was as obviously unknown to the rest of the galaxy at large, but so far their first contact was much smoother than Yuuzhan Vong's. Not a single death, apart from Jodo Kast.

"So you let that monster go?"

Quoreal looked down from gazing at the sky to see Claudelle. He knew she did not mean Krang.

"I'm many times the monster he was."

Confusion was evident upon her face.

"No! You've done nothing but help us since we crashed here."

Did Quoreal see in her eyes the same feeling directed at him that he felt toward her? No time for that now.

"Since we have crashed here, the Yautja has done nothing but help us as well."

"But. before," she started about Baron Samedi only for Quoreal to interrupt about himself.

"Before I killed hundreds of Republic soldiers from dozens of species. My amphistaff coiled around many throats, slowly choking the life out of my prey or poisoning them." He knew he'd said something wrong by the look on her face.

"'Prey?' You sound like a Yautja."

"I was a member of the warrior caste."

"Then why are you helping us now?" She was genuinely confused. Once his people had been called the "Far Outsiders." In many ways they were still outsiders but the full term was now a better fit for the Milky Way aliens.

"My people tried to conquer this galaxy. We failed and met the sentient world, Zonama Sekot, in the process, the seed of our original homeworld, Yuuzhan'tar."

"And your homeworld told you you were wrong?"

"In short, yes."

Claudelle looked at him, as if to imagine their leader of the past few days as a blood thirsty monster. The ceremonially carved scars on his face suggested just what kind of culture he came from.

She drew back for a moment.

"That's who I was, not who I am." Quoreal tried his warmest, most sincere smile, only to reveal two rows of carved pointed teeth.

Claudelle smiled back. She obviously did not know his teeth had been carved.

"I've changed, and that is what the Yautja says about himself. Give him a chance."

Claudelle nodded and slowly said, "He can live here, but I don't want to spend any time with him."

Quoreal nodded and swallowed. That was the best that could be hoped between them.

Now that the camp's internal issue had been dealt with he had to discuss the external issues with Cody. He had been so ready to dismiss the words in Mirta's Chiss message when he thought Samedi had trapped them there, now he had to ask, were there actually Sith there?


	8. 1-8 Jungle of Darkness

Cody, who knew nothing about the Sith, had agreed to Quoreal's idea about investigating deeper into the island, provided that Mirta, the only native of this galaxy with weapons, went with him. That made sense. She would know what to expect if there really was an offshoot of an evil cult with mystical powers. She knew about the Sith; Samedi didn't. She had weapons; Quoreal didn't.

He had to agree to the obvious fact that he had no obvious weapons, but he disagreed with Cody's assessment. As a Yuuzhan Vong Warrior, Quoreal's entire body was a weapon designed to kill.

For tens of thousands of years, the Yuuzhan Vong had wandered through intergalactic space after they had been exiled from their sentient homeworld of Yuuzhan'tar which had stripped them of the ability to use the Force. In that time, they had bred themselves into castes, each with specific tasks. They invented patron deities for each caste, each based on some half-remembered part of Yuuzhan'tar's personality. They did not learn the truth of their own past until they met Zonama Sekot, a sentient world that had been "born" from the minerals and bio-matter of their original home.

It was into that culture that Quoreal of Domain Rapuung, a warrior domain, followers of Yun-Yamka, god of war, had been born. He had killed many Republic soldiers, and had many ritual scaring and biot implant ceremonies, but had never achieved a rank higher than commander though most of his subordinates believed he should be out and out Warmaster, leader of his caste, answerable only to the Supreme Overlord.

But he harbored doubts of his own worthiness—not of his prowess, but of his heresy. He loved a woman of another caste.

But that was life he'd left behind, so why did he feel slighted that Jones had sent the Mandalorian to protect him?

The answer was simple.

"You know I'm the most qualified if we run into Sith."

Mirta stopped and looked back at him, "Do you mean because I'm a human or a woman?"

He did not need eyes to see the gaze coming from behind the visor.

"Because you are human," he said with nothing in his voice belying that he understood just how offensive his answer still was.

"We beat you, in case you don't remember!"

"Yes you did, but you can still be felt in the Force. I can't. A Sith could Force-choke you. That ability would be wasted on me."

Mirta then realized that what Quoreal had said made perfect sense. Unlike other "Force-blind" species like the Ssi-Ruuk, Force-blindness worked both ways with the Yuuzhan Vong. They could neither sense nor be sensed by the Force. Still, he had insulted her species. Valid points or not, he'd earned a verbal quip.

"The Force, maybe. But I'd rather have a Mandlorian flamethrower if we went up against a light saber."

"Fair enough," he conceded.

Strangely enough, neither of the things they mentioned were any help against poison darts, and someone blew those into both of their necks.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

All there was was blackness. Quoreal could not see his hand in front of his face; he couldn't raise his hand for that matter. He called out to Mirta. She responded that she was all right, but her voice sounded distorted as though Quoreal's pointed ears, the distinctive mark of the warrior caste, were filled with water. Soon, however, another voice began to speak while the blackness in Quoreal's eyes resolved into blurred vision.

"You are not dressed like the other Sith," she said.

Quoreal tried to turn to see where this other voice was coming from, but realized he was tied to something, a power generator most likely, as he noticed a piercing crystal blue light diagonal to his eye line.

Mirta must have been looking at the speaker as she answered, "We're not Sith."

"You are obviously not Nightsisters, as one of you wears Mandalorian armor and the other is…" A Chiss woman complete with blue skin, red eyes, and long blue-black hair with flecks of grey stepped into Quorreal's view. Her clothing was a dull faded orange flight suit.

She was the one who left the recording about the Sith. She had just confirmed her message was indeed about the Sith with her own Basic words, and she revealed how long she had been here with next statement.

"…whatever you are," She said in reference to Quoreal.

She had not seen a Yuuzhan Vong before, meaning she had been here for more than a decade.

"I'm not a Sith. My species is blind to the Force, as it is blind to us."

"Impossible!" She said.

"No, it's not. He's a Yuuzhan Vong. They are all that way," Mirta said, her helmet removed and hands tied to a rod behind her.

"They did not enter our galaxy until ten years ago. There was a major war and…"

The Chiss interrupted. "A single decade? I have been on Dathomir for at least twice that long. I was a bounty hunter and came at the request of Black Sun. I had to come to these coordinates specifically. It was here that I met _him_." She said the pronoun ominously and then became silent.

"Him?" Quoreal prodded her.

"The Dark Lord of the Sith. He wore a mask. I never saw his face, but he was a Falleen, I'm sure of it." The Chiss seemed to be dazed, staring into nothingness, as she dug up memories that she would rather forget.

"Because of the Black Sun connection?" Mirta asked.

"Because, after his followers destroyed my ships engines he seduced me with his pheromones. I hated him but that only made the lust grow stronger. I could've resisted a simple mind trick." Another pause. "He was obsessed with lineage, and because he knew my core name he wanted my ancestor's genes."

This was lost on Quoreal, but Mirta knew a bit more about Chiss culture.

"A core name is a family name, isn't it?"

"V'thraw'nusaya."

That was her full name. The family name "Thrawn" was perfectly clear. Even Quoreal caught it.

"He overpowered me with his pheromones, I couldn't resist him. He came back every evening until he was sure. Then his followers took me to their compound and kept me prisoner. After I gave birth, two Sith were sent to kill me." She rolled up her sleeve to show where a lightsaber had burned here forearm, but had not cut it off.

"As you can see, the opposite happened."

Quoreal knew enough about the Sith to note the inconsistencies in what she was saying.

"You keep mentioning his followers, which could be understandable, but you said 'two Sith' when you meant his henchman. There can only be one Master and one Apprentice." Quoreal felt a bold defiance bubble up in him, the same that he felt when he thought Mirta and Samedi were threats.

"I think you're the one behind all this! You couldn't have created the wormhole that trapped our friends here, but you built the device that blocks all communication here, and forced our escape pods to land here!"

The Chiss responded with venom.

"I don't know anything about a wormhole, but I'm not keeping you here! The Sith are!"

"The Sith and Yun-Harla!" Quoreal responded invoking the Yuuzhan Vong goddess of trickery, who by no coincidence was the unofficial patron deity of the political class.

The Chiss was puzzled at the alien deity's name, only slowly realizing that Quoreal had said it in such a tone as to refer to something nonexistent. Obviously that's what he thought about the Sith.

"Why do you doubt me about the monsters that raped me and burned my arm!?"

Mirta took over the conversation.

"We heard your message about the Sith. We were concerned about keeping our group safe, so we went to survey further inland, when we got darts in our necks."

"You should try to get to the mainland, outside the communications block. Get offworld."

"Why haven't you done that?" Quoreal asked.

"I know that the Sith are being reborn here. Their leader, the Falleen, feels for me through the Force. My knowledge must stay here. He tried to kill me but I killed two of his apprentices. I was too difficult to kill, but easy enough to contain. Look around."

They did as was instructed. They seemed to be in a room with a corridor leading in one direction presumably to a cockpit. The rod Mirta was tied to was one pole of a blaster stand. Several weapons were in their slots, but one rifle-seized blaster was missing. Most telling were the thin lines on the floor. They formed the shape of a ramp which could lower.

This was a ship, that much was true, but something still gnawed at Quoreal.

"You said 'apprentices.' A Sith can only have one."

She eyed the Yuuzhan Vong warily. "He called it 'Sidious' folly,' the Falleen. Darth Vader destroyed the Sith with the Rule of Two. If he had been a lord at the time he could've prevented it."

"One of Palpatine's Dark Side adepts?" Mirta asked. A Falleen of that era could still be alive today.

"He had to have been, and your quest to leave may be too late."

She knelt down beside Quoreal and cut the ropes tying his hands and feet together. Then, she moved toward Mirta and freed her from the gun rack.

Both of them looked at her.

"You must go back to your camp. If you truly arrived in the way you described, the Sith already know that you're here."

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"You do realize that this could all be a trap?" Quoreal asked Mirta.

"That's she's working for the Sith? That thought occurred to me," Mirta walked forward and turned, "but so has the solutionto our problrm." She became still. Quoreal didn't like that.

"They can follow me, but they're blind to you."

"It's too dangerous!"

"I've killed Yuuzhan Vong warriors before. I can handle half-trained Sith apprentices!"

Quoreal paused. If she'd killed warriors…

"I thought your armor was stolen."

"This set is," she waved a hand over Jodo Kast's armor. "One act of vigilantism can end your career on Concord Dawn, even if its justified."

Quoreal nodded, noting just how little about Mirta Rau any of them still knew. He remembered just how dangerous he had thought her to be before Samedi took over that role. Now he was actually worried about _her_ safety when she was probably a match for him as matters stood. Still, one aspect of everyone's safety there gave him pause.

"I underestimated you because women in my caste do not traditionally battle. I forgot that you are human and your customs differ. I must apologize for this, but one thing stands—the Falleen, he is beyond any of our abilities right now."

Mirta nodded.

"I have no intention of fighting anyone if it can be helped. I'll report back when I've learned where they are."

She struck the sides of her shoulders with closed fists and nodded. Quoreal recognized the gesture. Normally there would be living knives poking the shoulders, but that practice was dying out among the Yuuzhan Vong. Quoreal repeated the salute.

The commander sent his warrior on her way. He now had to report back to the camp's Supreme Overlord, Cody Jones.

Quoreal felt like he was back in a world he knew, but as comforting as that thought was to the part of his mind that yearned for the familiar, he was also repelled by the things of the past he would rather forget: the pointless war, the trillion lives counting both the Republic's casualties and his own people's. This time had to be different. Their survival depended on these things.

Survival? Hadn't that been the reason the Yuuzhan Vong had come to this galaxy in the first place? Were things truly different now?


	9. 1-9 The Apprentice

AN: Darth Shadow is an OC I made for this fic, but his complex origin story is in my Star Wars fic "Shadows of the Sith." He's a Falleen/Zabrak hybrid.

Sanjay looked over his shoulder at his son with the Mon Cal, Ibsim. He had been too careless here: the Triceraton knew, the Mon Cal knew, and the Noghri knew. This was how it started: people finding out his boy's gifts, and the media giving them no rest. He'd left his wife and taken their son with him, when priests from a local sect saw the boy's talents. He'd moved from India to the Caribbean, cashing in two decades of work as a chief executive in his artificial intelligence company, to enjoy life on an island paradise. He took up fishing as a hobby, but the same things that happened in India happened in his new home.

He left earth and was in transit for one the outer colonies when they ran into the wormhole and ended up here. His ex-wife must be sick with grief because of their ship going missing. The custody agreement on Earth gave her three months' custody of the child. While they had lived in the Caribbean, this had worked out to the time he was not in school, but when they'd moved off planet everything had to be renegotiated. She was due to see him soon, but they were now in a totally alien galaxy.

Still Sanjay was glad that his present company included the Triceraton and the Noghri. Zed Ram seemed to have the same abilities as Muni, and Rukh had explained that were people in this galaxy had people with similar abilities called "Jedi" and that they were highly honored in this galaxy. If there was no going back, Muni could still have a good future in this galaxy, and Sanjay could stop worrying about his son being exploited. Still, what of his wife? She deserved to see her son, or to at least know that he was alright.

Rukh stepped one foot forward resting his weight on the other.

"I think I've got something," the device on Sanjay's belt translated Rukh's words from Honoghran into Hindi.

"Pull it up," Sanjay reminded him.

The two simple wooden fishing sticks that Sanjay had made had long bits of yarn, given from the owners of several of the escape pods, to which he had attached his pocket knife and his son's. The bait was usually some form of worm or arthropod that they found on the outskirts of the jungle, or, less commonly, leftovers from what the Yautja hunted. There was no reel, so hauling the fish in required sheer arm power.

Rukh brought up a smoothed skin purple eel and laid it on the ground, removing the bait from its mouth. Soon it would be time for Rukh's favorite part of the activity: roasting the catch. Nothing seemed closer to home to the Noghri than a good fire.

The creature did not look quite as appetizing to Sanjay, who turned to get Ibsim's opinion. Both he and Muni were gone.

"Let me go find them," Sanjay said, but after searching the whole camp, they were both missing.

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The Trishreddatron had been one of the first to join the rescue party, mostly because Krang had volunteered his services before he could do so on his own. Still, he did care about the little human to an extent. He reminded him of himself as a juvenile Triceraton; they were both sensitive to something this galaxy called the "Force." In the Milky Way such individuals were so rare as to be practically non-existent. He knew that some existed among the Yautja, but they were forbidden to hunt or take in part of Yautja society. Such Yautja were considered to be incapable of hunting prey fairly, due to their "magic."

The Yautja in the front left their rescue party was not a conventional Predator to begin with, and the preternatural in question here was a human. From what Shredder had gathered about Samedi, he was too weak to be a Yautja Hunter anyway. He let Krang's sob story fool him into letting his archnemesis live.

The Noghri in the lead was sniffing out the boy's location by sent. The Foot could benefit use sentient blood hounds like that in their service.

The boy's father was obviously there, and fortunately the words that Rukh had established in Hindi were automatically translated into English by everyone else's devices via their link with Sanjay's. Personally, Shredder found that the only useful contribution of the elder Patel to the effort. People who were emotional made erratic decisions, and this man's son had presumably been kidnapped by the Fish-head everyone thought was their neighbor.

Patel had legitimate reason to be hysterical, which meant there were legitimate reasons for leaving him behind. He seemed to be holding his cool fairly well.

That left the man next to Shredder, Cody Jones, to be considered.

As their leader, he was expected to be here, and he seemed to be genuinely motivated by concern for the boy's safety. Shredder got that on all their parts, but also knew how incredibly naïve Jones would be about it. He was a wealthy CEO who came from a world where money and computers could fix everything. Life didn't quite work that way on the streets, certainly not in the jungle.

Really, Quoreal or Mirta should be there instead of Shredder, and really, instead of Jones himself. Sure, he was the leader, but he had no real experience of any kind to contribute.

"So where are our Vong and wannabe-Yautja?"

" _Yuuzhan_ Vong. It means something like 'orphan' if you leave the first part off. They're tracking down the Sith right now."

Shredder smirked and said, "If they really are a cult of Force-sensitives, and have cut this island off from the rest of the planet, did you ever stop to consider that our fish friend might be one?"

Sanjay stopped in his tracks. What Zed had asked made perfect sense. The Sith wanted his boy because of his Force potential.

"Maybe we should reconsider how we approach this. The have powers we don't. "

Cody shrugged and proved Shredder's fears, "We have a Yautja hunter and a Force user of our own."

Rukh surprised everyone when he gave the unsolicited advice, "I can keep track of Muni's scent. Baron Samedi can cloak and I can sneak in. We can get the boy back without risking anyone else."

Sanjay vehemently objected.

"I'm Muni's father! He is my responsibility."

Rukh grabbed his wrist. "Samedi can cloak and has weapons. Any Noghri of my position is a skilled stealth assassin. You and Cody can't help Muni. You can only get yourselves hurt. Besides, I still owe you."

Shredder's tympanic membranes tingled at the word's "stealth assassin." He was one too.

"Actually, I may be able to help," Zed Ram the humble Triceraton said.

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The three approached a rocky outcrop with three main columns. Sure enough, Muni and Ibsim were there, waiting for something to come out of the woods on their right where the jungle seemed denser and the shadows thicker.

Samedi tried to lock on to a thermal image, but his scanners couldn't detect anything. Rukh strained his eyesight, but had no better luck at making anything out. Shredder, the only Force-sensitive member of their group felt something, a cold, calculating, and powerful presence that obviously was not from the boy, but didn't come from the Fish-head either.

"There's someone out there," Shredder said.

"That much is certain," Samedi said, "but we have surprise on our side. I can lock on to Ibsim while cloaked. Rukh can get to the boy the fastest while I continue—" Samedi stooped. He couldn't read a distinct heat signature but he saw leaves rustle. Shredder and Rukh could see a black robed figure with a hood.

Ibsim, keeping his hands firmly on Muni's shoulders, bowed.

"Lord Shadow, I have brought a Force-sensitive boy from the camp."

Muni was silent during the whole ordeal as the Sith Lord took his chin in hand and looked him directly in the eye. None of the would be rescuers could see the face of the being who was now clearly their chief enemy.

"The Force is strong in him," then without any hint of concern the Dark Lord said, "but we are not alone."

Samedi rose with blaster locked on Shadow, but the Sith Lord flicked his wrist and Samedi felt as though something was clawing his brain.

He screamed, dropped to his knees, removed his mask from his face, and held his head in his hands.

This was the first time Rukh had seen an unmasked Yautja, but he saved his fear for the Sith Lord.

"You are from another galaxy. You came here seeking a murderer who had wronged you. You suspected your neighbor of being his servant…" he released Samedi and seized Shredder.

Zed felt the same pain in his head and collapsed.

"You are Shredder, minion of Krang…"

Zed was not listening. Instead he was growing angrier with the pain.

"Zed-ji!" Muni called out to him.

Shredder did not know what had happened but a bolt of lightning shot out of his palm taking Shadow by surprise and mildly electrocuting him.

Had they seized the initiative, Samedi could have fired on Ibsim and set Muni free, but they were all to stunned to do anything.

Shadow was the first to recover his speech.

"Force lightning, in one with no training?" He looked to Ibsim, "You may have brought me _an_ apprentice, but this…Triceraton…is _the_ apprentice."

Shadow flicked his wrist again and tree roots from underground suddenly twisted around their shoulders and knees.

"No!" Muni screamed as only hope of being rescued—of going home—vanished. He also could not believe that his friend, Zed-ji was really the Trishreddatron.

"My apprentices will let you go once the boy is safely in Sith hands." Then he addressed the Trishreddatron as an individual. "I took me 130 years of training to do all the things you saw me do, but I have never in my time seen an untrained individual unleash Force lightening. I have great hopes for your future, and I call that future _Darth Shredder_. We'll meet again." Shadow and Ibsim retreated into the shadows, and the three were left alone in fading sunlight. One thing was clear: the secret was out, and tomorrow Krang and Shredder would both be dead at the Yautja's hands.

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"Krang," a voice intruded into the Utrom's dreams.

"Krang!" the voice rasped more forcefully.

The crime lord opened his eyes to a terrifying sight. A being that looked like the grim reaper sat cross legged next to Krang's mattress, complete with a jet black hood and robe, and a face hidden behind layers of intricately patterned black and white paint. The only clear detail was that he had horns.

"Wh-who are you?" Krang shuddered as he spoke.

"I control everything that happens here." Anticipating the next question, he added, "Apart from a man concerned about his son whom I had to knock out, everyone was asleep: their minds numb enough, for to make the suggestion, 'let me through.' We could really come in at any time."

That comment enabled Krang to see past his own fear toward possible opportunity.

"But, clearly you haven't. Instead, you came directly to me. Why?"

For a moment, the grim reaper was gone. One crime lord peered into the eyes of another.

"I met your apprentice in the jungle a few hours ago. I learned about your secret, 'Krang,' and unless you want a very strong creature with mandibles to rip you apart tomorrow, I suggest you come with me."

Krang realized that the figure had not answered any of his questions.

"Why do you want me alive?"

The intruder smiled a half grin.

"Tactics. The Sith prey upon, take strength from, and manipulate certain emotions. You are a valuable player, so is your stalker, so is your apprentice, so is this group's leader. Alive you are all useful to me, dead…well, dead is dead."

Krang could not understand what kind of game this "Sith" was playing, but he recognized with his secret exposed, he couldn't wait for Samedi to arrive.

"What all do you want from me?"

"For now, just information. A whole new galaxy has just opened up to us, and I want to know as much as I can about it."

Krang slithered off his mattress and ventured, "I would have thought you knew all about our galaxy with the wormhole and all the humans and Yautja you've brought over here,"

The Sith stared at Krang and said the most frightening thing he'd heard since his arrival there:

"We did not know about the wormhole until your ship passed through, but we do know about the half-droid squid creatures who had laboratories on this planet. Perhaps they are the ones responsible for the population exchange."

The Quintessons had obviously been involved in this galaxy's distant past. That confirmed for Krang that the wormhole was stable, but also that the Quints would be inseparable from their escape attempt. Oh well, their lackey had Krang take the specific transport ship that ended up here. He'd play this Sith. He, Krang, still held all the cards in the end.


	10. 1-10 Vengeance

It's September now, so the amount of work I have to do for school is picking up. I will probably not be able to update once a week for much longer. I do intend to continue this story when I have time. We're very near the end of Book 1.

Morning came. Presences beyond Rukh's field of view, but near enough to smell, caused the roots and vines to release him and his two companions. They had the skills necessary to take on a group of the lesser trained Sith, but right now the Yautja and Triceraton seemed more focused on each other.

Before Samedi put his mask back on, Rukh could read intense anger on the Yautja's face. What he could not tell was that the hunter's anger was directed as much internally as it was against the Triceraton.

Samedi put his mask back in place and locked gazes with Zed.

"I can't believe I was stupid enough to believe him! To let compassion get in the way of my revenge! To—ugh!"

Samedi started to choke after his declarations and Rukh turned to see Zed clenching his fist. The Sith Force-choke technique: Zed was a fast study.

"Never pick a fight with the Shredder!" The Trishreddatron's voice was thick with satisfaction. All his life he'd never been good enough, but here he learned that his abilities which made him a freak back home were his pathways to greatness! A muscle bound Yautja Hunter, the ultimate embodiment of machismo in the Milky Way was helpless prey before an underweight Triceraton. He lost focus though when the Noghri screamed at them both. Samedi audibly drew in deep breaths.

"What is wrong with you two! The boy, Muni, he needs our help." Rukh then began pointing at the two and himself. "I'm a tracker and stealth assassin, you're a hunter with a cloaking device and a plasma caster, and you," he looked at Shredder, "You have the Force. We can work together if you can save whatever vendetta is between you until the boy is safe."

The two warriors heard Rukh's words with very different ears: Samedi had lost both parents and a child. Even if he saw compassion as weakness, he still felt something for what Sanjay was going through; Shredder on the other hand after looking at what he could do with his Force powers when he focused, realized that with the Sith might actually be the best place for Muni.

"The child doesn't need saving. The Sith are teaching him things his father could never imagine," Shredder said calmly. Rukh couldn't believe it!

"The Sith are evil!"

"Good and evil are a matter of perspective," Shredder said slowly, as he shifted his gaze from Rukh to Samedi, "Don't you agree, hunter?"

The Predator who'd just denounced compassion saw things in yet a different way still.

"The boy is still his father's blood. They belong together, morality be ) %*)!"

Samedi drew himself to his full height. He looked at Rukh.

"We go back to the main camp and formulate a new plan." The Noghri nodded. That left Shredder.

"I'll save the information about Krang until this situation is resolved and father and son are reunited," Samedi's eyes narrowed behind his mask and he spoke in a tone as menacing as though he were a Sith himself, "But then, nothing will stand between me and my vengeance!"

 _As though I care about Krang, anyway_ , Shredder thought.

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"So you just let them take my son?!" Sanjay shouted.

"Didn't you just hear what Rukh described? If they would've kept going, they would've gotten themselves killed!" Cody responded, anger winning over compassion. Clearly Sanjay had a right to worry about his son, but they couldn't just storm the Sith without a plan. That was why he'd sent Mirta and Quoreal into the inland.

They weren't back yet, which could either mean that they were still searching or had been captured, or worse…

Cody didn't dare let his mind linger on that possibility for long, but the look was obvious to everyone standing around the entrance to his tent.

"You're hiding something, Jones!" Zed said.

Cody crouched and looked at each of his hands as though he could physically weigh the risks of telling the truth and creating a panic or withhold it and fracture the group's unity. The former option seemed the less risky.

"What are you doing looking at your hands like that?" Zed asked.

Cody stood and said, "I was weighing the risks, and decided on telling you."

"Telling us what?" Samedi asked, as indignantly as Zed.

"After we determined that Craig wasn't Krang, Quoreal wanted to see if there really was a Sith threat. He had no weapons, so I sent Mirta with him."

At the mention of "Craig", Samedi punched a fist into an open palm, obviously distraught, but only Zed noticed, Rukh and Sanjay being far more concerned with Cody's decision to send the only person besides Samedi who had weapons out of the camp.

"You are all idiots!" Sanjay said as he took a step back from the circle that they'd formed, "Sending the only person besides the Yautja who had weapons right into their hands! Who made you our leader, Jones?"

"Samedi and myself when the camp was divided," came an unexpected voice from behind. Cody was already facing that direction the voice came from, but everyone else turned to see Quoreal.

"My species cannot be sensed in the Force. The Sith could not follow me."

"Where's Mirta?" Cody asked in a state of concern.

"She's trying to find the Sith's base. She's the only one of us with a jetpack, and she is a battle proven warrior."

Cody felt a little of his fear dissipate, but Zed quickly injected "If they are blind to you, why didn't you go find their base and send her back?"

"I didn't want them to find our camp."

"Too late for that! They knew from the beginning!" Sanjay ranted. Quoreal and Zed were the only ones who did not feel sympathy for him: Quoreal because he did not know that Muni was missing, Shredder because he truly believed that the boy was better off with the Sith.

"I think it's time we had a change in leadership and none of you three are eligible! The Mon Cal was one of them the whole time and no one suspected. I'm going to the only one who I've been able to trust with my son."

Before anyone could blink, Rukh had dropped him with his legs holding Sanjay's arms down and apart, one hand on Sanjay's neck and the other on his head.

"I kept your son's secret. I tracked him through the jungle. Lack of ability is not the same as abandoning. I'm trying to reorganize to get back to him." Rukh then twisted his grip till it became painful. "You could trust me, but now you have dishonored me. I will still save your son, but it will not be for you."

Rukh got off, and Sanjay looked at him, realizing he had gone too far. He was the one who trusted Ibsim with Muni.

"I'm sorry," he said in a meaningful but strained voice, "But you should still speak to Craig."

"He'll be expecting my report," Zed moved off in the direction of Craig's tent.

Samedi swallowed. They had to keep focused on the boy now. Vengeance would come later.

It was only while he was standing with his mind to himself that he heard Shredder shout, "He's gone!"

Then he knew matters couldn't stay secret.

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These were the most difficult times the survivors had experienced since arriving here, the fact that disaster that stranded them being less than a week ago notwithstanding. Still, one thing was constant, Claudelle reminded herself, _The Yautja is at the center of everyone's problems._

The search to rescue Muni Patel had been interrupted because they had found out that Craig really was Krang, and the Voodoo god of cemeteries had to have his revenge. That was why Krang's Triceraton had disappeared.

She didn't really feel that sorry for Krang; he was a criminal warlord after all, with the blood of hundreds on his tentacles. In all honesty the Yautja was probably the better sentient between the two of but that didn't change the matter that he was hunting the Triceraton who'd just been a pawn in all this.

 _No_ , Claudelle reminded herself, _He's worse than you think. He likes to tell himself he's changed, but he's still hunting an innocent for his own satisfaction._

The "reformed Yautja" was just an illusion. The monster that had killed her ancestor had been right there among them the whole time.

Claudelle stared at her reflection in the water, trying to figure out why she was the only one who could see where the blame for this mess really lay. Jones was still might even have the Yautja on the lookout for the Shredder. If that was so, then he'd just condemned that Triceraton to his death. Jones was clearly an idiot; everyone was realizing that.

"Claudelle, are you all right?" Claudelle jumped because she had been so focused, but Quorreal's reflection now registered and she turned to face him.

"No, I'm not."

Quoreal arched his forehead.

"What's wrong?" There was real concern in his tone.

Claudelle steeled her face. This couldn't be seen as personal, because the whole camp was in danger.

"You never should have let Jones take your place as leader. He's probably just signed the Shredder's death warrant."

Quoreal laughed. "With preparing to defend ourselves from the Sith, I doubt he's worried about one renegade Triceraton."

Claudelle turned her back to Quoreal.

"Jones might not be, but the Baron's another matter."

Quoreal looked confused.

"Samedi's grudge was with Krang, not his henchman."

Claudelle stepped forward and locked eyes with Quoreal.

"But Krang isn't here, and Shredder is his henchman. A henchman who just vanished, probably because he's being chased!"

Quoreal squinted his eyes in disgust, but tried and failed to jerk his head out the way before Claudelle could see. He slowly turned his head back to sternly face her.

"The most likely reason Shredder fled was to find his master."

"A master that Samedi has a vendetta against."

"He's not the only one with a vendetta."

Claudelle stepped back, getting her foot into the ocean.

"You think this is about revenge?"

"Isn't it?"

"I'm a Catholic. Vengeance belongs to God," she paused and added, "But the camp is in danger." She stormed off into the jungle.

Quoreal did not know what to make of that statement. It sounded to him like something a warrior would say about Yun-Yamka to justify a quest for revenge. He followed.

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Everyone knew that the Yautja practiced martial arts under a waterfall near the camp. Fortunately, he left his armor and, more importantly, his weapons on a rock across the small pond in front of the waterfall.

While the Predator kicked and punched behind the cascade, Claudelle Fontaine picked up his mask, shoulder armor, and wrist pad. This last piece was key.

She was at first stunned by the sheer alieness of the infrared vision, and realized that the Predator might notice her while she struggled to find her own vision spectrum.

She could tell the Baron was turning, so she ducked down on the slightly less elevated ground at the bottom of the slope leading up to the pond. Here she furiously began pressing panels on the wrist panel, fearing that with each wrong move she would betray her position, and the alerted Baron could finish her off before she had control of the device.

She must've pushed at least three different buttons, which thankfully didn't do anything, before one finally switched her vision spectrum. She pushed it twice more, and finally let out a silent breath when she toggled to the ordinary human visible spectrum. Now she could try to find which panel controlled the aiming device.

One touch—nothing.

Another—the shoulder canon activated, startling her, but it didn't fire. Instead a blue triangle appeared, looking for something to lock on to.

She stood and the Baron emerged from the waterfall. The triangle now had a target.

"Who…are…you?" He asked in his actual voice, his English halting and raspy.

He deserved to know at whose hands he would meet his end.

"You killed my ancestor in Haiti!"

"F-f-on-taine?"

"You won't kill the Shredder the way you killed him, skinning his body and taking his head as a trophy!"

Samedi paused for a moment. "Sh-shred-der? What does he..have to do…with…this?"

Claudelle felt her resolve shaken. Did he really have no plans to harm him?

No! He had to! He was a monster!

"You want to kill him because you can't get to Krang! You have to your revenge?"

"Against..whom? Someone else…Krang…has hurt and u-used?"

The translator on Claudelle's belt was translating their English into Yuuzhan Vong. Quoreal emerged from the shadows between two trees.

"You're right, Claudelle, someone is here for vengeance, but it isn't him. Couldn't you hear the surprise in his voice. If you think you have some sacred duty—"

She remembered her own words. Vengeance is the Lord's.

"Only God knows what we truly owe, and he chooses…" the sight of the Predator only made the next words more concrete to her. The Predator was tense, agitated, afraid, unarmed, wearing only a loincloth: defenseless, naked, scared.

"He chooses to forgive anyway."

She slowly removed the weapons and armor she had stolen.

The Predator kneeled on his knees, almost without realizing it. The sight on his face was one Claudelle never thought to see on a hardened hunter: tears in his eyes. Shame mixed with gratitude.

"You…have shown…mercy. I…killed…"

"And you have done nothing but help us here. I forgive you."

She walked away, leaving Quoreal and Samedi both to wonder just what kind of woman she was.

Quoreal, for one, was completely surprised.


	11. 1-11 Birth

Shalx found many things annoying, and, being an Utrom raised in the immigrant community on Cybertron, she deemed herself an expert on what really was annoying versus what wasn't. One obvious example was how Uxils, the only other Utrom in camp after Krang's disappearance, constantly asked her how she was feeling. He always stopped just short of asking her the main question: Why risk space travel when the bulge on the side of her head was about to detach any day now?

If he would just ask that question, she could tell him that it was not any of his business and be done with his pestering her. But no, if she was reading him right, he thought that would be too private. If he really cared about her privacy, he wouldn't just ask how she was all the time. It was so obvious that he cared about her in more than a friendly way.

In addition to being the only two Utrom there, they were of opposite genders and the same age. She knew what he was after and had no intent of letting him take advantage of her condition.

 _Her condition._

It did always come back to that, and for good reason. She really was stupid enough to try to run away from home, move to Earth on a fake ID, all because she wanted her abusive alcoholic father and distant mother to have no touch on this child when it dislodged. They'd never approve of her letting a male she wasn't married to caress her with his tentacles as had happened, and she knew she couldn't let them raise the result of said caressing.

She had to be strong for the little one developing on the corner of her mantel. The Utrom body was basically a head with tentacles. Unlike egg-laying Cephalopods, the Utrom gave live birth, and an Utrom baby would form near the body's main exit on the side of the head. It would have to break the skin, which all Utrom knew was extremely painful.

The day such a thing approached Shalx was coming nigh, there were no Utrom obstetricians, or any obstetricians for that matter, only a Yautja hunter who had medicinal equipment amongst his things.

She turned from her staring up into the night sky of this bizarre galaxy to see Uxils approach her.

"No!" She yelled at him and he halted.

She was about to begin another sentence when she felt a sharp pain in her head.

Uxils only ran faster, drat him.

"Is it the baby?"

His words already seemed echo-like; the pain was getting to her faster than she had expected. Pressure was steadily increasing on the right side of her head. The baby was coming.

All that Shalx could sense was intense pain. Everything around her slowed, Uxils's screaming became silent, her own tentacles weakened and she began to fall onto her left side. She barely noticed Uxils prop himself against her, or gently guide her to a resting position. Head splitting pain was all her world. 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Shredder stopped by the stream where the Dathomiri moon shone clearest in a tiny pond. He had heard no trilling, so presumably the Yautja wasn't following. At any rate Samedi's archnemesis was Krang, not himself. He was heading after the Sith, the ones who were like him, who could use this "force." However, he would not come as a scrawny Triceraton butler, as his real self, the Trishreddatron. For that he needed to put on his real face: a part metal/part chainmail hood. A metal pan with jagged edges covered his ceratopsian crest, while mail fell around his neck and cheeks. Unlike the helmets of human Shredders, the pan on the Trishreddatron's hood had two holes. He had two natural spikes to fit them and a third spike above his nose, completely eliminating the three-pronged spike piece of his predecessors.

Watching himself in the pond he got his metal grated beak guard and tied its cloth strips behind his neck, hidden under the chainmail.

The Trishreddatron smiled. It was good to be himself again and to see himself reflected back in the water after he had been playing a butler for so long.

Now that he had the mask on he had firmly shifted personas. Putting on his clawed hand, foot, forearm, shin, and shoulder armor over his black cloath clothes was just a matter of getting dressed.

The Trishreddatron paused. He'd never put on his armor because he'd wanted to before. He'd only done it when Krang had wanted him to. No more! That spineless Utrom no longer controlled the Foot!

Shredder raised his head, looked at moon and let out a throaty Triceraton roar….until he remembered that this was the wrong moon. He was in an alien galaxy. Here, the Foot did not exist. The Sith couldn't be his main focus. He had an empire to run back home. Getting off this planet and back to the Milky Way had to been his main focus.

He kicked a piece of dirt and some weeds up as he roared again, this time in frustration. The other members of the camp were doing nothing about the situation! The Sith were the only ones who had access off world. Like it or not, the Trishreddatron had to follow where the Sith led.

He continued on his path until he stumbled over a tree limb, or something and came crashing down.

Shredder cursed and pushed himself up to a kneeling position when he noticed it: the gleam of the moon shown silver on a large but low lying circular object. Shredder fully stood and walked over and examined the object more closely. Not so much a circular object at all, but a joining of many triangular pieces, forming a collapsible door. Not so much the gleam of the moon as the door's own power system. A handful of cables ran out of the rim around the door over what Shredder now noticed was the top of a large hill, before disappearing into the darkness again. Most importantly of all was what Shredder found when he returned to the door. On the lower left edge was a bright green rendition in line of a Quintesson Magistrate's Face of Death.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The entire camp was gathered around Shalx, Cody noted. Even Rukh's wife was there. A fissure of skin had broken out on Shalx's head; this was where the baby would come through. Uxils was holding her on one side while Samedi had antiseptics ready on the other. After an hour of pushing, a sloshing sound followed by a thud was heard. Samedi held the tiny newborn Utrom in one hand, a small laser scalpel used for hard to remove skin on trophies sufficed for severing the umbilical cord on the baby's back. The baby was covered in biological slime. Only a moment later the placenta, far smaller not just in size but even in proportion to a human placenta, dislodged. The hunter-cum-doctor handed the squirming creature to Uxils while applying burning antiseptics to Shalx. She screamed almost as intensely as while the birthing process was going on. Then their "medic" cloaked and went on his way, not comfortable with what he had seen in order to help her do.

 _Can't exactly say I blame him_ , Cody mused. _He still should have helped move her back to her tent_. Still though, Cody was proud of what this group had managed.

The onlookers gradually disbanded going back to their own tents. Uxils crawled to the ocean and scrubbed the baby with ocean water and his own tentacles. He called out for Cody and asked him to help Shalx back to her tent while he cleaned the baby. Luckily her tent was not that far. Cody returned to meet Uxils halfway on his way back.

"Thank you, for helping, Cody. I doubt she'll be happy to know I bathed the little one."

That puzzled Cody, so he had to ask, "Do you and her not get along or something?"

"Yes, partly for reasons that you will understand, partly for ones that you'll find bizarre at the moment."

Cody chuckled sat down, and said, "Try me."

"I actually need to have a long conversation with you when I put this baby down."

"Take.." Cody was trying to gesture to inquire about the baby's gender.

"She's a girl. I'll take her to her mother while you wait here."

Cody nodded. Uxils was hardly gone for two minutes when Cody heard the young Utrom's voice behind him.

"I didn't think life had any objective meaning when I got here."

Cody turned to look at him. "You control what your life means, whether it's good or bad."

"And who defines 'good' or 'bad'? You?"

Cody knew that much was wrong.

"No, then you could do whatever you want. Society."

"Societies change. Do you think Samedi is a bad Yautja because he refuses to hunt the innocent?"

"No, that's a big step above the typical Yautja."

"Then you consider human society superior to Yautja society?"

"No—," Cody started before he realized he was trapped by his own words.

"I'm talking about values that are immutable, what is really good or bad."

Cody had no answer.

"I believe this universe has a Creator, who has set such values, by virtue of being the Creator."

Cody rolled his eyes.

"I'm familiar with Utrom beliefs."

"I'm not promoting Utrom society. There is plenty wrong with it. What I want to impart to you is that while I was going through withdrawals from the pain killers, I felt things."

Cody wasn't convinced but didn't want to insult Uxils. Uxils could tell.

"It's alright, you don't have to believe me know. One of you will if the other doesn't. You have to know what is to love another to the point of death, even if they do not love you back."

Cody then realized something.

"You're talking about yourself and Shalx."

Uxils smiled.

"Well, that too."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The alien sun dawned on the alien beach, and as Cody Jones roused himself from sleep he made two major notes: fight the Sith, and ignore the Utrom. He paid no attention to anything Uxils had said last night. He had seen plenty of religious lunatics in his life and this Utrom definitely qualified. All of this was probably based on some hallucination he had during his withdrawals. Similar visions had happened in similar scenarios and said things in total contradiction to what Uxils claimed about the nature of good and evil.

 _It must be comforting to think that evil is as incorrect as a faulty math problem,_ Cody mused to himself, but the truth was that they only regarded things as evil because compassion was an important skill in the evolution of community building.

The Quentessions had seemed to have evolved beyond the need for it—Cody stopped himself.

No, compassion was a real thing, Cody knew that instinctively. The Quintessons may be smarter and older than anyone else in the galaxy, and may have achieved virtually immortality through a combination of cloning, brainwave transfer, and cybernetics, but there was no species with higher rates of depression or sadism.

He had already spent too much time letting the Utrom get into his head. What mattered was that compassion was functional. The dysfunctional nature of Quintesson society was proof enough of that, and the most functional thing for the community was getting Muni Patel back from the Sith. Cody would talk to Samedi, their hunter, Quoreal, their warrior, and Rukh, their tracker, after breakfast.

Cody tried to turn his mind to a strategy that would rescue Muni, when a familiar drawled voice shouted to get the whole beach's attention:

"Wake up, everybody! I think I found something that might be helpful!"

Cody stood and turned around to Zed Ram, the runaway Triceraton in full Shredder costume. The survivors were slowly forming a circle around, but now, knowing who he was, few wanted to get too close.

"Have you found something that will help us rescue the boy?" Cody heard Quoreal ask.

"Better still, at least for those from my galaxy."

Cody stopped in his tracks.

"What is it!?" He demanded, before Sanjay Patel could hijack the discussion.

He failed though, as Sanjay stared back at him.

"You don't have any children, Jones! Rescuing my son is the most important thing!"

Sanjay turned to look at Shredder. "What have you found?"

"There are other beings from the Milky Way on Dathomir, being's whose technology might overcome the Sith's force abilities."

Quoreal, scoffed. The Yuuzhan Vong's biotechnology was too much for the Republic, but it failed miserably against the Jedi. Still, they needed allies.

"Last night I found the opening of an operational elevator shaft to a fully powered Quintesson facility."

That confirmed what Cody had been suspecting: the Quintessons had built the wormhole, which meant they had a way back home.

"Are you sure it was Quintesson?"

"It had a green Face of Death insignia. It was Quintesson all right."

Everything was turning out so well, that Cody regretted sending Mirta out. She could be in serious danger.

"Now, where are the Yautja and the human Yautja-pretender? The elevator's locked from the inside so we need to blast our way in."


	12. 1-12 Fated Encounters

AN: Uxils refers to the force in lower case, because he does not believe to be intelligent, personal, or have a will of its own.

Mirta had only parted company with Quoreal about eleven minutes beforehand, but she was already in a dense area of jungle where thick clusters of tree canopies almost entirely blocked out the sunlight.

She paused for a moment.

The Sith liked darkness in the moral sense as a way of life, and darkness in the literal sense as an aesthetic statement. Their enclave could very well be—no, probably was—very near. The clustering of trees in all directions except to her rear offered no clue as to which direction was her destination. In absence of any signs she simply continued in the direction she was going. If worst came to worst she could always hide behind one of the numerous trees should a Sith apprentice find her en route. Still, the slight chill of being discovered wasn't dismaying; it was exhilarating! Mirta could handle one Sith apprentice, and besides she was a soldier, and not just any soldier but a true Mandalorian warrior.

It wasn't that she felt a sudden burst of cockiness, far from it. It just that simply for the first time in several years she felt like herself again. The whole running from authorities wasn't her. Someone with a defined enemy, a defined goal, and a defined plan to protect the civilians: that was what defined her life. It was also what got her in trouble in the first place, but she couldn't afford to think about that now. The mission was enough for her right now.

Then she heard a twig snap behind her.

She quickly turned to see a yellow-skinned Twi'lek woman in brown rags. Curiously, she wore a patch over one eye.

Mirta drew her blaster at once, which prompted the Twi'lek to audibly click her tounge in disapproval with a hand gesture to match.

"Just what exactly is a Mandilorian doing on an isolated little corner of Dathomir and why do you want to hurt a woman whose ship got destroyed?"

Mirta did not know what to make of this woman. Was she a survivor whose escape pod landed on a different part of the island? She didn't have a Sith's black cowl, but that didn't prove anything.

"Who are you?"

"I might ask you the same thing. Why don't you put down the gun and let's discuss this like civilized beings?"

Mirta kept the blaster raised.

"Are you with the Sith?"

The Twi'lek scrunched her face in confusion.

"What does a cult that's been dead 130 years have to do with anything?"

"They're not extinct here. A new group has clustered around some Falleen who was one of Palpatine's Dark Side adepts."

The Twi'lek was unable to read Mirta's face behind her mask, but her own confused look gave way to concern.

"You've actually _met_ them?"

Mirta was stunned into silence, as she had in fact not met any of the Sith.

"No, but there's a Chiss woman not too far from here who has."

"Was she on our ship?"

Finally, Mirta made a judgement call. She put down the blaster.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Twi'lek, Tala Doneeta, led Mirta back to a campsite in a clearing. There were two tents, a fire, and what appeared to be a dull brown scaled Ssi-Ruu sitting on the log. Its mouth was a long maw and it was completely naked apart from a belt to which two pockets were attached.

Just what one of these Saurian aliens was doing off its home? The Ssi-Ruu believed that anyone who died off of a consecrated world was doomed to wander the galaxy forever was a wraith. Dathomir was almost at the exact opposite end of the galaxy from Lhwekk, so a Ssi-Ruu on this planet was an even bigger rarity than a Yuuzhan Vong.

"Who's your Ssi-Ruu friend?" Mirta asked.

The creature noticed her use the word "Ssi-Ruuk," and angled its head after a distinctive snort a flicker of its bifurcated nose-tongues. It was apparently offended, which Tala confirmed.

"His name is Lwothin, and he's not a Ssi-Ruu. He's a P'w'eck."

Mirta bowed in apology. The P'w'eck were descendants of mixed-caste Ssi-Ruuk, who after millennia of genetic segregation were almost a separate species. Forced selective breeding meant that they were almost always smaller than their Ssi-Ruuvi cousins. Mirta had never seen a Ssi-Ruu or a P'w'eck before, so she only had the general description to go on. When Lwothin rose to a crouching position—the shape of his leg and tail prevented a standing position—she could see that he was indeed smaller of stature then he looked while sitting. He was not much taller than her, really.

He started whistling, honking, and chirping before an unseen person began speaking in a polished upper class Coruscanti accent.

"Was this person on our ship?"

Mirta paused for a second. While this was obviously a droid speaking for Lwothan, the P'w'eck himself had referred to her as a person. She'd thought him as _it._ She was ashamed.

"Obviously," Tala said, "And she claims a group of them are clustered a little less than a day's walk from here, but she also claims there are a group of Sith here."

"Wasn't Palpatine the last of them?"

"My thoughts too," Tala said, before Mirta felt a burning pain behind her knee and knelt ont the ground.

Lwothan jumped into the air, binging his talons down on her helmet and ripping her jetpack off her back.

Mirta thrashed wildly, trying to turn over or kick the P'w'eck, but he was too fast for her, holding her legs down by standing on them.

His arms, the weakest part of his body, went into hold her considerably stronger ones down, but he didn't need to succeed here, only occupy her until Tala took the gauntlets and wrist controls, which she did.

While Tala was systematically stripping Mirta of weapons, Mirta caught a glimpse of a blaster in one of Tala's pockets. She'd been planning this all along.

"We have more weapons in my escape pod and now," she paused, her voice sounding like she was a professional at this kind, "We have you. And we aren't leaving until you've told us exactly what's going on."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **Nal Hutta, three years ago**

"You truly are a professional turncoat aren't you, Tala," Zovaal Besadii Aur said as he and his son, Durga, entered the room on their repulsor lifts. She had beautiful blue eyes, but he knew she was a trained killer and underboss. Durga focused on the room instead. It was a gigantic room with giant totem in an indoor pond at the center. It was meant for parties, not what was going on now. Durga really wished that there was a party, not this ugly family "business."

With their hands bound and guards behind their backs Gorga, leader of the Desilijic Kajidic, galactic face of the Hutt Empire, and his elite Weequay, Nikto, and Gammorean guards awaited execution with his own guards standing behind them. Sure they, were enemies of the family, but Durga didn't like seeing anybody in pain.

He whispered to his father if they could do this painlessly, and his father betrayed that trust by bellowing, "Of course, Durga, I'm not a sadistic Hutt. The Desiljics have been worthy rivals over the millennia; they've earned honorable deaths."

Durga then noted that his father turned his head away from him and addressed Gorga directly, "But at the same time, I can't let our ancient enemies fall without a little bit of gloating. You'd do the same wouldn't you, Gorga? The rivalry between our clans is as old as Nal Hutta itself. My ancestors could not make any profit without yours outdoing us. We had temporary victories but yours would come back from a new direction and change the rules. Our Gradulla owned Darth Vader as a slave but she lost him to Toydarian, and Jabba made sure the Toydarian released him.

But that Empire died with Vader, and now's Jabba's is going to follow it."

Zovaal was about to give the word for his guards to slit the captives' throats when the single Quarren in Gorga's entourage, known by everyone but Durga to be an infiltrator from Black Sun, said, "Mistress Doneeta, stop!"

Everyone in the room stared at the two of them.

She approached him.

"As long as the Hutts are divided you have freedom of action, but when one emerges victorious…well you know there are only two species."

Durga got that clearly. _Hutts and servants_.

Tala grabbed the Quarren by his face tentacles.

"We all know you take your orders from Sizhran Savazh, the Dark Prince of Black Sun. He doesn't care any more about my freedom of action than the Hutts do. He doesn't even care that much about yours and you work for him."

Tala brought her blaster to her lips, thought for a minute and said, "You're right," before shooting him in the head. Almost immediately she did the same to Gorga, prompting Zovaal to bellow. Durga winced. He closed his eyes and heard her say, "I'm through with Hutts!" A laser fired. Durga opened his eyes to see his father dead, and immediately hovered to his side. He was too engulfed in emotional turmoil to notice the guards start fighting with each other and Tala get shot in the eye. He had just lost his father, and that meant the galaxy to him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **Dathomir, present**

Durga had spent the last three years trying to distance himself from Hutt crime and politics. One Kajidic was just as bad as another, so there was no escape but to leave Hutt society altogether. One would think that being stranded on an isolated part of an already sparsely populated world should do that for him, but two evils, one as bad as the other, were facing him once again.

The Trishreddatron, Cody, Quoreal, and Baron Samedi had all set out for the Quintesson outpost earlier that day. Now Durga crawled after Uxils who had been talking to him the whole day about why what their leaders were doing was a mistake.

Actually Uxils hadn't specifically been talking to Durga, but Durga was the only one who agreed to follow him.

From what the Utrom had said, the Quintessons were at least as bad as the Sith, and sounded all too similar to Hutts. Creating a race of sentient droids to exist as slaves, conducting unethical experiments on sentients throughout the Milky Way, tricking less developed cultures into destroying their own ecosystems for profit—all of these were Hutt behaviors.

Uxils's own personal story touched Durga on a sentimental level. As materialistic as his culture was, most Hutts believed that their spirits would live on with their ancestors after their bodies died. The Quintesson belief that there was nothing more than the physical just seemed, well, sad. No wonder Uxils became so depressed after he was in college.

He was definitely on a mission and Durga had to force himself to keep up.

Finally, Uxils stopped and shouted, "Wait!"

Durga looked to each side and saw nothing, but when he looked forward he realized that the command hadn't been meant for him.

"What do you want, Utrom?" Shredder snarled at them.

He, Cody, Samedi, and Quoreal were standing only a few feet away from the elevator shaft.

Cody, quickly silenced the Shredder.

"Don't yell at him!" Then he turned to Uxils and Durga. "He's right though, it's very dangerous for the two of you to be here. What do you have to say?"

Durga looked at Uxils who gulped.

"I know that we need away off this planet, but don't trust any agents of the Quintesson Empire. What they could do with a force-sensitive test subject is beyond horrifying. We need help, but if we're turning to them to get it, we need to use guile."

"Aw, shut up!" Shredder said. Everyone stared at him.

"They've been here for millennia, if they wanted a Force user they could have got one long ago. Quintessons are dangerous, but the enemy of my enemy is my friend. If they see the Sith as their enemy, that makes them our friends by definition."

"Only until this fight is over. Ask any Cybertronian veteran of the Great War, Quintessons always think ten steps ahead."

Cody stared at the elevator for a minute. Uxils had brought up good points, but they still needed help. The right step was down that shaft, but what came next?

"I know how to deal with Quints," Samedi said before Cody could respond, and repeatedly blasted the door with his plasma caster until there was a large enough hole for any of them but Durga to go down.

Uxils looked and shuddered, "Remember, plan for the next moment."

 **End of Book 1**


	13. 2-1 The Smoke Clears

AN: Yuuzhan Vong religion was based on Aztec and Mayan religion in the New Jedi Order book series. Just a reminder, despite the heavy influence of Legends spieces, the Star Wars elements in the story are supposed to be in the canon timeline 100 years after Episode VII.

The Transformers elements are based on the 80's cartoon, Beast Wars, and Beast Machines with only the episode "Call of the Primatives being retconned."

This is the beginning of Book II. The things I said in the beginning of Book I still apply.

 **Dramatis Personae for Book II**

Cody Jones (Human male, from Milky Way Galaxy, based on character from TMNT: Fast Forward)

Mirta Rau (Human Female from Star Wars galaxy, Mandalorian Warrior, OC)

Zed Ram/Trishreddatron (Triceraton male, first alien Shredder, inspired by unused concept from canceled second season of TMNT: Fast Forward)

Yeyinde/Baron Samedi (Yautja male, aka Predator male, OC)

Quoreal Rapuung (Yuuzhan Vong male, warrior caste, OC, species from Star Wars Legends)

Uxils (Utrom Male, Species in most Versions of TMNT, OC)

Rukh (Noghri Male, husband to Meewal, Species from Star Wars Legends, OC)

Meewal (Noghri Female, wife to Rukh, OC)

Shalx (Utrom Female OC)

Sanjay Patel (Human Male from Milky Way Galaxy, OC)

Durga Besadii Tai (Male Hutt, named for but not the same as Star Wars Legends Character, OC)

Claudelle Fontaine (Human Female from Milky Way Galaxy, OC)

Tala Doneeta (Twi'lek female, Species from canon Star Wars, OC, inspired by crime boss Fish

Mooney from Gotham)

Lwothin (Male P'w'eck, OC, species and namesake from Star Wars Legends)

Nightscream (Male Maximal, bat, originally from Beast Machines)

Darth Shadow/Sizhran Savazh (Male Falleen/Zabrak Hybrid, Sith Lord, OC from story Shadows of the Sith)

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The smoke had cleared.

Cody, Shredder, Samedi, and Quoreal looked down an illuminated elevator shaft to see a movable platform twenty feet below them.

"I can make the climb," the Predator said, extending the claws of his gauntlet.

"As could I," Shredder said, before turning his head from side to side looking both Cody and Quoreal in the eye and remind them, "This was my idea!"

Cody could feel the pressure of Uxils' eyes staring at him from the Utrom's position with Durga several feet away. He noticed too, that Uxils was paying close attention to the Trishreddatron.

 _If you don't understand, the other will._

Was Zed Uxils's "other"?

Cody didn't want to pay the Utrom much mind, but he was concerned about what the Trishreddatron, so recently under Krang's influence, would do right now if he really had as important a role to play as Uxils seemed to think.

"Shredder, you wait here. Samedi will talk to the Quintessons for us."

Cody looked to Uxils who smiled and nodded.

"It can't be Quoreal because the Quintessons need to see somebody from the Milky Way; it can't be me because I don't have the tools to climb; and most importantly it can't be you because we still haven't been over the issue of the elephant in the room."

Quoreal and Durga both looked at Cody with their species' equivalents cocked eyebrows.

"English expression," Cody said, "It means that—

"It means that you don't trust me because I was working for Krang," Shredder said. He stepped backward, and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and said, "I completely understand that. I wasn't looking for him when I was gone. I was looking for the Sith."

"You still place too much emphasis on power. Krang may not be with you physically, but his way of thinking still has had an influence on your mind."

This, not some reference to a higher power, but real morals, were something Cody could applaud Uxils for. Shredder's next statement was one which was totally inexcusable.

"Did you become a telepath when you had your withdrawal-induced vision? It was about getting info, not power or revenge. Quit wasting everyone's time trying to make yourself feel important when you have nothing useful to contribute to the group!"

Shredder immediately felt Cody and Quoreal's eyes weighing on him to such an extent that he missed the totally unoffended look on Uxils's face. He didn't know how things were done in this galaxy, so he spared the Vong much thought. It was Jones, the archenemy of the Foot, who deserved a rival's explanation.

"Please, Cody," calling Jones by his first name for the first time since they met. "You don't know what he's said to me: a bunch of mumbo jumbo about destiny on the day you were trying Krang."

Cody's face softened. The Triceraton Shredder was behaving the way any of his criminal predecessors would. His attitude should be expected, but it was rude all the same.

"He said similar things to me, and it was a little creepy, but that's no excuse to be rude to him."

 _So he wants Jones to replace me_ , Shredder thought. _We'll see about that_.

He then noticed that he'd lost track of their resident Yautja.

"Where's Samedi?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Samedi had climbed all the way to the bottom of the elevator shaft to find that there was too little heat or light down here to make his thermal vision practical. He could tell there was an opening in front of him, and something behind multiple layers of metal walls generating a lot of power, but to be clearer he toggled to another spectrum, something resembling night vision goggles. He followed a steady path with a few twists and turns, but could generally tell where a path was a dead end, and switch back to thermal view to gauge how close he was to the power source.

As he walked, a feeling gnawed at him: a feeling which few outsiders would ever conceive of the Yautja as having, but one which hunters knew very well as a friend that kept them alive: fear.

Samedi was afraid after so many meters alone that no Quintessons were down here anymore.

He walked into a large open area that contained a wall-seized screen and multiple computers, all on low power.

This had to be a very important room at whatever kind of instillation this was.

As Samedi looked at one of the rear left exit his instincts kicked in. He turned to see a bipedial figure holding a blaster with a red targeting device pointed right at him. This was no Quintesson!

Samedi trilled as he extended his gauntlet's claws.

The being recognized the trill and the motion.

"A Yautja? How did you end up here?"

Samedi quickly followed with his own targeting system.

"Mine are stronger, so why don't we both put our weapons down?" The Predator asked.

The other being shrugged, deactivated his blaster's targeting function and turned on the lighting in the room.

Samedi lay down his shoulder canon.

The other being somehow changed forms from a biped to a batlike organism, roughly the size of a human. A Technorganic?

"I'm Nightscream, and I thought I'd never see anyone from our galaxy again."

What was a Cybertronian doing at a Quintesson installation?

"Where are the Quintessons?"

Nightscream transformed back into robot mode and picked up his blaster. Samedi could clearly make out wings on his ankles and hair that swirled downward, between his eyes. Odd for a machine to have hair, but ever since the Great Reformating thirty years before, almost all Cybertronians were "Technorganic."

"What business do you have with them?" His voice was shaky. He was obvious no exception to the general rule that Cybertronians don't trust Quintessons. Cybertronians had more direct reason not to than anyone else.

"Take it easy. All we want is their technology so we can go home."

Nightscream put down the gun.

"I'm afraid you're gonna be disappointed."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Cody, Shredder, and Quoreal entered through the proper entrance to the station, a rocklike door built into the natural hill that they had been standing on. Despite needing Nightscream to deactivate the lock for them, this was still extremely low tech by Quintesson standards, yet, Cody reminded himself, the insignia on the elevator left no question about the makers of this place.

More interesting than whatever this complex was their new friend. Cody knew of Nightscream as one of the Maximal heroes who'd liberated Cybertron from Megatron's Vehicons. That alone made him worth knowing and a valuable addition to their group. Nightscream had also mysteriously vanished from the Milky Way Galaxy a year and a half ago. That mystery was now solved.

The trio entered an office-style room with light orange tiles and yellow walls. Nightscream and Samedi were both seated, waiting for them.

Nightscream, in his "robot" form with brown hair and blue plating, gestured and said, "Please take a seat. That couch is one of the only things I managed to salvage from my ship."

They looked behind and saw a maroon couch. They sat.

"So you must be Cody Jones," Nightscream said simply.

It was pretty obvious, since Cody was the only human.

"Yeah. That's me."

Nightscream stared at Cody for a moment, trying to evaluate him.

"You probably think that this station is a way for us to get back to our galaxy," the Maximal said in carefully measured tones, not wanting to get their hopes up, "but it's not quite that simple."

"What do you mean, freak?" Shredder asked.

"Remind me why I'm not killing him?" Samedi asked.

"Please, ignore them, sir," Cody said, insulting Samedi more than Shredder.

"The wormhole that links the two galaxies only appears in the Cybertronian and Dathomiri systems, but it opens and closes at unpredictable intervals. This base works with several others on this planet to keep it permanently closed."

That statement threw everyone. While Cody was still trying to grasp how the Quintessons could have used the wormhole in the past, Shredder stood and shouted, "That makes no sense! They've sent humans here in the past and a least a small group of Yautja that inspired a whole culture of human pretenders!"

Nightscream responded with equal intensity, "Key phrase: in the past!" He stood and walked to a holoprojector in the center of the room.

After Nightscream entered a command in on the grey pedestal's keyboard the image of a scientist-caste Quintesson appeared.

This was the first full colored hologram Quoreal had ever seen. Green tentacles were a remnant of the time when Quintessons were fully organic cephalopods. The silver body with its orange plating and its oval but humanoid head were entirely mechanical. The pink field that seemed to keep the Quintesson suspended in the air was pure plasma.

"Greetings, Welcome to installation R5. I'm site administrator Inquirata. As you know the wormhole connecting our home galaxy with our colonies is located in this system. As such we have many installations in this system's forest world. They all work in harmony with each other to send beams to the wormhole, to control if and when it opens. The reports from our temporal investigation teams indicate that if the inhabitants of the two galaxies become aware of each other's existence at this point in time, no possible timeline will remain in which we can stave off heat death of the universe. Not only will it mean the destruction of the Quintesson species, but of the entire universe. It is therefore essential to keep the wormhole closed until all our temporal investigations determine when contact must occur. You must enter this code at your station every solar rotation," The holorecording then mentioned a string of incomprehensible numbers or letters, before resuming, "These orders are directly sanctioned by Imperial Arbiter Alðerata. Remember that the future of the universe rests upon what you do here."

The hologram disappeared.

The words heat death of the universe caught everyone's attention. Quoreal was the only one who needed explanation.

Shredder surprised everyone by answering, "Well, conventional physics maintains that energy in a closed system, in this case the universe, will continue to be more and more chaotic over time until all energy is evenly distributed. Heat, motion, everything about the universe as we know it will come to an end. If anyone has a way of preventing it, it's the Quints."

Quoreal stood as a lump slide uncomfortably down his throat. This sounded too much like the Yuuzhan Vong religious belief about how all worlds would end if the gods stopped receiving their sacrifices. Now it was real once more, and so was the inevitable question.

"The two galaxies have already met. Have we just doomed everything to oblivion?"

Everyone looked at Nightscream.

"They've met in the past and nothing happened. But it was always on an untraceable local level. You already know you can't communicate off world as long as you're on this island."

Everyone expected those words to comfort them, but they didn't, and they all knew why.

"The Sith!" Shredder growled.

"The what?" Nightscream asked.

"They're a cult who have supernatural abilities," Cody said.

Quoreal looked at Cody and pointed to Nightscream.

"Do you expect him to believe that?"

Cody and Nightscream answered almost simultaneously, "I'm/He's from Cybertron," as though that in itself made the supernatural easier to believe.

Quoreal, realizing that were from a different galaxy, shrugged and relented. Maybe bizarre things had happened on Cybertron.

"They have a child from our group hostage and they want to expand into the Milky Way, and they are the ones responsible for blocking communications," Samedi explained.

Nightscream knitted his brows in anxiety for a moment. Then he nodded and stood up.

"Ok, the Quintessons left weapons here, so we can fight back. None of them can be allowed to survive, but we should leave their communication jamming in place."

Cody couldn't believe what he just heard from one of his heroes.

He finally stood.

"That's genocide!"

"The existence of the universe is at stake! We have no choice about that or being stuck here!"

Suddenly Cody realized the full implications of what the hologram had said. They really were stuck here.


	14. 2-2 When Innocents Fall

AN: Lekku are a Twi'lek's head tails.

Claudelle could see Quoreal and Samedi approaching from her position where she was reading The First Half of My Life by Aisin-Gioro Puyi on a beach towel: the Yuuzhan Vong Warrior shewas sure had a crush on her and the Yautja Hunter she'd tried to kill. Why they would both be approaching her, she had no idea. At least it wouldn't be about romance if they were both there.

Quoreal approached her and said in a hushed voice, "Claudelle, the three of us need to talk about something."

She could not read Samedi's masked face but Quoreal's taught posture and steady eyes told her it was something very serious that affected the whole group.

She got up and folded her beach towel, and she said, "In the trees just outside camp," as she already started in that direction herself, stopping only to put her towel back in her tent.

She ended that task only to find that the two had stopped and were just standing outside her tent waiting for her. She said nothing and continued to lead them to a site just outside camp. Theycould still see the tents through the trees and bushes, but they were secluded enough to speak in secret without whispering.

"So," Claudelle began, "What is this secret that you thought I should know?"

Quoreal exhaled and then began, "After we get rid of the Sith, we still can't leave?"

Claudelle then realized her previous concerns had been too petty. She did not have the time to worry about having an alien boyfriend when she knew that her Earth was gone forever.

"What do you mean?" She drew back.

"A recording of a Quintesson scientist said that if the two galaxies became aware of each other before the proper time it would make something called 'heat death of the universe' inevitable."

She looked away from Quoreal toward Samedi who explained, "The equal distribution of all energy in the universe, to the point that energy can longer change forms. Everything is static."

"What does this have to do with us?"

"We have no idea, but the Quintesson kept mentioning temporal physics. Everyone knows that they use time travel with their experiments to possible futures. Something about the Quintessons' research into preventing heat death becomes derailed if our two galaxies meet at this point."

Claudelle noticed a rock and sat down on it.

"Did they say how long until the galaxies could safely meet?"

"Not even the vaguest hint," Quoreal responded. "Could be today, could a hundred thousand years."

Claudelle immediately thought about home.

"My parents, my brother, I may never see any of them again." Claudelle looked at her

companions more intently, "None of us will, if the time's not right." She then realized that she had been thinking only about the people from her own galaxy, but the natives here would be just as dangerous given their contact with them. Everyone would have to stay.

But the Sith had a way off world.

"The Sith?"

"Don't worry," Quoreal said, "We've met an experienced warrior who has weapons and experience. That's all we need."

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"I'm an experienced criminal, and my friend, we have all the weapons," Tala Doneeta said as she stood over Mirta, wearing her armor minus the helmet

The Mandalorian was in a difficult position: her mouth gaged, and her hands tied behind her back. Her captors had spent days burning her hands and feet, and placing wood beneath her fingernails, all in an effort together to talk about what kind of defenses the group she came from had. It was time for them to begin again as the Twi'lek stood over her.

Mirta stared angrily at the woman in her armor.

"And in my experience I've had to 'interrogate' a lot of people, but none have ever kept up with such ridiculous stories as a Sith cult and visitors from another galaxy after this much torture."

Doneeta began laughing, "I'm almost starting to believe you myself, but I'm too smart to go all the way." Her laughter stopped, "But we still need a hostage. There may not be a super hunter monster in your camp but I doubt you're the only one who's armed."

Mirta then noted that Doneeta was cradling the helmet in her arms.

Doneeta followed Mirta's gaze with her eyes.

"Don't worry. I won't steal your face. My lekku wouldn't fit, anyway."

Mirta grunted something behind the gag.

Lwothin chirped something that his droid translated into, "We should listen to what she wants to say."

Tala brought one hand to her chin and said, "Why not?"

She ungagged Mirta who promptly said, "Our 'super-hunter' isn't a monster. You are."

Doneeta threw her head back, and gave a laugh that quickly softened into a chuckle.

"I'm not a monster, dear. I'm a survivor. Like you."

That comment stung Mirta a little too deeply, because at its core, it was true. She may not have murdered Jodo Kast for his armor, but she had stolen it. She had murdered Jaster Hardeen, her fellow Yuuzhan Vong war veteran, on Concord Dawn and tried to hide the evidence. She told herself it had been to protect Hardeen's wife from an obviously abusive relationship, and could do this as Hardeen's superior officer, but in reality she had no justification. For one thing, this occurred in civilian life. For another, the wife was an adult who could've walked out on her own if she had wanted to, with no lives being lost at all.

She had tried to control something that wasn't her call, and ensure that she wouldn't pay for it. She was a survivor indeed. Doneeta fit the armor that Mirta had stolen so well because the two of them were so much alike. That was not how Mirta wanted to be remembered.

"You're forgetting one thing," Mirta said.

"And what's that?" Doneeta asked, before receiving a head-butt that knocked her backwards. Mirta darted into the jungle, with her hands still tied behind her back.

"I'm still a Mandalorian."

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The moon shone brightly on the waves the night after Cody introduced Nightscream to the survivors. Most of those from the Milky Way, including Claudelle herself had already heard of him. To someone who was a professional photographer, she did not question anything that they said about anti-Sith strategy. It was Quintesson temporal physics that concerned her more.

That morning, she had asked Quoreal and Samedi if Cody knew that they had told her. Now she knew she was going to have to ask Cody what his long term-strategy was, assuming he and not Nightscream was still their leader.

As per the instructions that she had whispered to Cody during Nightscream's speech, they met in the woods just outside the camp.

Claudelle was staring out into the jungle, wondering about how they would adapt to their new home, when she heard leaves rustle. She turned to see Cody.

"So, are you still our leader?"

"No, I think I'm gonna let Nightscream take over."

"Good for you, but it will be bad for Nightscream when the Sith are dealt with, and he dashes everyone's hope."

Cody dropped his mouth in shock.

"I thought they explained why."

"They did. Accepting something intellectually and accepting it emotionally are two different things. I understand why we have to stay, but I'm still disappointed."

"That's understandable," Cody nodded.

"And it's also sentient nature to blame someone when something goes wrong. We are all going to be angry, and some of us will see it as Nightscream's fault."

Cody realized that everyone's hope had been raised when a Quintesson presence on Dathomir had been confirmed. Nightscream was the one they found there and he was the one to disappoint them.

"Do you think someone will try to hurt him?"

"I tried to kill Samedi because of the way I feel—" she caught herself, "felt about Yautja."

Claudelle then realized that the way she felt about Yautja hadn't really changed. They were still a barbarous species that hunted other sentients for sport. Samedi had become an exception because he recognized what he had done was wrong. She returned to the issue at hand.

"People might judge Nightscream as the bringer of bad news, but they will definitely view him as a threat if he deliberately keeps this a secret."

Cody thought on Claudelle's words. She was right on all counts, but their group could not be disheartened before they took on the Sith.

"If the Sith spread knowledge of us off this planet, it's not going to matter anyway."

"It might. Heat death's billions of years away. Who's to say the Quintessons are the only ones who can prevent it. God works in mysterious ways."

"Assuming there is a God," Cody said.

Then he and Claudelle instantly cocked their heads at a rustling sound.

Mirta stumbled out of the woods without armor and with bound hands.

Someone was aiming for Mirta, but they blaster fire flew over her ducked head and hit Claudelle in the heart.

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The sound of blaster fire brought the whole camp to the woods within seconds. Doneeta stood over her victims. She'd missed the Mandalorian, but she'd hit a human female in strange clothing and now had her blaster pointed at a human male in strange clothing. Neither had any weapons, so everything should be easy.

Everything went black when Baron Samedi decloaked and pound his fist into Doneeta's head.

His mask could read Claudelle's vital signs and her heart was no longer beating. Her body had already stopped generating heat. The ooman who had had a true reason to want him dead, but had spared him anyway was gone.

He removed his mask, stared at the moon and roared, flaring his mandibles to their fullest extent.

The Twi'lek would pay and—Samedi heard light rapid footsteps and saw a Saurian with blasters of his own emerge from the jungle.

The hunter threw his entire body weight into the Saurian, knocking him to the ground. He then proceeded to beat his fists into the prey's maw repeatedly.

"Who are you? Are you with the Sith? Answer, worm!"

Lwothin of course was unable to answer with the constant battery. His portable translation unit LKD-9D9, answered in a somewhat distressed Coruscanti Basic, "Please, sir, stop! Master Lwothin can't answer you if keep beating him!"

"It's right, Samedi. He can't answer under these conditions. Let's take their weapons and interrogate them as prisoners," Cody said.

"There's no point in interrogating them. They came on my ship, and other than having weapons no one noticed, they're nobodies. They know nothing about what's going with the Sith," Mirta said, still sitting on her knees.

By now, Quoreal, Nightscream, and Shredder had arrived. Quoreal looked at Claudelle, then at the new arrivals, unable to speak, trying to convince himself that everything that happened since they found Nightscream was all a bad dream, that Claudelle was alive and they still had a way off this planet. He looked at Claudelle again and felt his heart sink. They would have never had a future together anyway. Now, she'd have no future at all.

Nightscream had never known Claudelle, but he knew she was a member of the group and that she needed to be mourned. The more practical side of things meant that he had to focus attention on the new arrivals responsible for this tragedy. He looked at Mirta.

"Mirta Rau, I presume?"

She nodded. "I'm afraid I don't know you."

"I'm Nightscream, from Cybertron in the Milky Way Galaxy. There's more going on here than a Sith cult. I'll have to debrief you later, but right now we need to deal with these two." He looked at Claudelle. "My condolences."

Mirta had never really known Claudelle, but her death pained her all the same. Doneeta had been aiming for her. She had ducked. She was Claudelle's real killer. That's who she was, who she'd always been. She, Quoreal, and Samedi had never been meant for life in peacetime.


	15. 2-3 The Lie

A.N. "Kane" is Yuuzhan Vong for "dung." "Tsup" is Yuuzhan Vong for a servant who perfoms lewd acts with their master.

Tala awoke on a brown bed in a room with marble green walls. She looked around to see a camera. So they were watching her.

Clearly she had misjudged something. Clearly they had a monster super hunter after all, but this room still made no sense. The Mandalorian had said everyone from the collision of the two ships that had survived were in tents by the beach. This room shouldn't exist unless they took it from someone. The question was who? The Nightsisters, the Empire, the First Order? They'd obviously lied about having not having a stronghold. Not that Tala blamed them. She would've kept something like this secret too. And they would need it if a Neo-Sith cult was active here.

Tala then abruptly stood up.

If the Sith were here they'd need people who were good in a fight. They would need her. She may have squandered any good will with the people after killing one of them, but they obviously wouldn't kill her when she could be used against the Sith in battle. Oh, they'd find a way to kill her off eventually, but it would be better for their own sake if she went down take a few Sith apprentices with.

She returned to the bed in a sitting position, smiling for half a second, and then faced the camera with a look of steely determination.

"I know you're watching me, and I know you want me dead. I'm sorry about the girl. I was honestly aiming for the Mandalorian, not her. I considered your friend a threat, but clearly I was wrong. If she's right and there are Sith here, you need people with combat experience. If we can't agree that what happened was a tragic accident, then wouldn't you rather see going down taking some of our common enemies with me?"

Then she realized she was already styling herself as a suicide mission candidate when she had not done anything wrong. She had fired at the Mandalorian who was a real threat, even with her hands tied and no weapons. It was not her fault that her quarry had ducked when she fired. It was just as much the Mandalorian's fault as hers. Not that they'd see it that way.

The Mandalorian was one of them. They couldn't blame her for ducking to save her life. Tala couldn't blame her either. But the only other way someone could be guilty was to blame the girl for standing in the position she'd stood in. No one was going to go for that. Tala herself wouldn't accept that.

It was either her or the Mandalorian, and they'd never side with the outsider. She had to be very careful with what she said next. She'd already established that she had not meant to kill the bystander and that she was mistaken about the Mandalorian. She needed to follow that up with why she had tortured and stripped the Mandalorian.

"I didn't expect anyone with Mandalorian armor to be from our ship. And I couldn't just accept what she said about people from another galaxy? I mean, were our roles reversed, would you?"

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The brown mattress was the only thing that had been added to the Quintesson jail cell. The camera was original and still working fine. On the other side Nightscream, Cody, and Shredder were watching their new arrival.

The fear on Tala Doneeta's face appeared to be genuine enough, but did fear equal remorse.

"I want justice for Claudelle; everyone does, but I was also there. She was aiming for Mirta. Claudelle was an accident. We can trust that much of what she said," Cody said from his crouched position next to Nightscream's chair.

Shredder, leaning his back against the wall, huffed with crossed arms. "The fact that the murder was an accident doesn't change the fact that the people want justice they can see. She did fire the blaster. She did kill Claudelle. Let's not forget she's not one of us."

"Us?" Nightscream said, not moving his eyes from Doneeta on the screen. "A few weeks ago, none of you each other. Until only two days ago, I didn't know any of you," Nightscream turned to face Shredder, "Us is a recent concept." Turning his eyes back to Doneeta, he said, "They crashed here on one of the same two ships; they're clueless as to what's going on here. How are they not us?"

"Tell that to Quoreal and Samedi."

Cody then remembered something from their first few days here that already felt like ancient history. "You mean the two that started out trying to kill each other?"

Shredder smiled behind his mask.

"Nice try, Cody, but the keyword there is tried." Shredder inclined his head toward Nightscream.

"The Twi'lek really did kill Claudelle. The people want her blood, if you expect to survive as our leader after telling everyone that we can't go home, you have to do something to appease the people."

Nightscream swiveled his chair to face Shredder. "I'm not going to kill someone to stay in office."

Cody was relieved to hear that, but there was still the problem of what to do about Doneeta and the Quintesson message. Unless…

"What if," Cody started only to have Nightscream and Shredder stare at him. They had to be on board with this:

"What if Doneeta was the one who found the Quintesson message, tortured Mirta to figure out what it meant, and we learned it from her? Nightscream's safe, and Doneeta gets a chance to work out her shock by helping us with the Sith."

Nightscream rubbed his chin with his long fingers, "I like it, but there's one problem. She doesn't have a translating device—"

Shredder interrupted, "Her companion, my fellow Saurian, has a portable interpreter droid. Quintesson's have been to this galaxy in the past, and since they've achieved artificial immortality, I'm betting their language has changed much since then."

Cody was thinking about what they'd tell Quoreal and Samedi, when Nightscream preempted him. "I'll need to speak to Quoreal, Samedi, and Mirta. Care to join me, Cody?"

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Lwothin spent the hours since he'd awoken wondering if the Ssi-Ruuk had been right after all. A world had to be consecrated and added to the imperium or a Ssi-Ruu who died there would wander the void forever. His sub-species weren't technically full Ssi-Ruuk, and he didn't think he was dead, but he was certainly lost on an alien world with little hope of getting home. That was close enough to the void one could come while still living.

He'd actually been in the void for some time, ever since the revolution. It had been based on the P'w'eck emancipation and the abolition of the scale-color caste system within Ssi-Ruuvi society itself, but he'd had to kill fellow P'w'eck and green-scaled Ssi-Ruuvi workers, the ones who they were fighting for. Plenty of mid-rank red-scaled warriors died, but few of the gold-scale priests or blue-scaled nobility who controlled society perished. It did not seem just. The P'w'eck and workers shared many beliefs with their predecessors apart from the social layout. It would have been unethical to kill civilians which most of the upper two castes were. Their leaders had deliberately drained P'w'eck of life force to power their battle droids, but those had always been P'w'eck in the low ranking military positions they could get.

Lwothin felt wrong about everything when the revolution was over. He had to wander in the void of the galaxy until he found peace with himself.

He was in the middle of a conversation with LKD-9D9 about how fruitless his quest had been when he heard a metallic door slide open.

"Can your droid speak Basic?" An armored figure asked.

"Why, yes, LKD-9D9, portable interpreter droid, at your service!"

"Silence! Only translate what your master says!" The armored figure shouted as he pulled a chair into the room.

Lwothin stroked the droid and shrieked slightly.

"My name is Lwothin, and my droid will only translate my words. I understand Basic."

The armored figure sat and gestured toward the bed in the room.

"We have a lot to talk about Mr. Lwothin, I suggest you get comfortable."

Lwothin half-lay half-sat on the bed in a manner that fitted his posture.

"I'm not from your galaxy, and it seems like I'll never get home, or go anywhere in this galaxy besides this miserable planet. Nor will you."

"It would seem that we are in the void indeed then," LKD-9D9 translated.

"Indeed," the figure nodded. "The problem is that I'm one of our leaders, and I have to give answers to angry people who don't they're trapped yet. Angry because of what your friend did."

Well, Tala wasn't exactly Lwothin's friend, but the other thing he said…

"Why don't they know that we are trapped?"

"I'm coming to that," the figure removed his helmet. "Most know me as the Trishreddatron, but I want you to know me as Zed Ram, a fellow Saurian who is approaching you in trust as one Saurian to another."

"Have we transgressed the limitations set by the gods?" Lwothin asked.

Well, the Quints probably think of themselves that way, Shredder mused.

"Perhaps, but the people will not understand it that way," Shredder said slowly. He locked eyes with Lwothin, kept a friendly look on his ceratopsian face and said in the Oklahoma City drawl that his translator carried over into Basic, "I'm afraid our community needs us to lie until we can tell the truth."

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"You want us to lie about the Quintessons in order to save this Twi'lek and her pet's life?" Quoreal demanded answers from Cody in the group where the four of them were gathered.

Before he could answer, Mirta, her full armor restored, interrupted.

"Lwothin is not a pet, he's as sentient as you or I. They do have to be dealt with, but they're not the biggest problem. Why is everyone so freaked out about an event that is not going to happen for another hundred billion years anyway? We'll all be dead by then!"

The same hostile suspicions that Quoreal had held against Mirta when they first crashed resurfaced.

"What about our worlds and civilizations?" Quoreal shouted at her barely keeping the words "you selfish piece of kane," in.

"Actually our planets' stars would have exploded or ceased burning long before that so there's still no reason to worry." Mirta said, already sounding defensive.

Quoreal stopped for a minute. If they were all doomed anyway, with no trace left behind, it would be as though they had never existed and nothing they did was of any consequence at all.

"Young one," Baron Samedi said to the Madalorian, "The Quintessons are well aware of all the projected stages of the universe's life. They would not make plans that they would not survive to benefit from."

"They are not all powerful," Mirta said.

"No, they aren't. But their power is greater than any we know of, in either galaxy."

"I highly doubt that," Mirta said dismissively, "They don't even have the Force. No one from your galaxy does."

Cody finally reached the end of his own patience with Mirta, "Tell that to Muni Patel who the Sith kidnapped to train, or to Shredder who can shoot lightning out of his fingers! None of us have all the facts, Mirta, but at least we can admit that."

Mirta was frozen. This was the first time she had heard the reason behind the Patel boy's abduction.

"People from your galaxy can use the Force?"

"How many people in this galaxy can?" Cody asked back.

"Less than…one tenth…of one percent," Mirta said as it dawned on her that the statistics were probably the same in both galaxies.

"It would be a safe bet that the Quintessons would know about it even if they can't use it. And who's to say that none of them can use it? This Darth Vader was a cyborg, wasn't he?"

Mirta stepped backward, trying to comprehend all this.

"They are all at least twelve million years old and have successfully tested time travel. You don't have to like them or trust them, but you do have to take them seriously," Samedi said, taking bold steps toward the slowly retreating Mirta. The young warrior had to know who they were dealing with.

She was not so much intimidated by Samedi's powerful build as by the words that both he and Cody had said.

"Alright," she nodded. "You know more about the Quintessons than I do, but I know more about Claudelle's death than you do. As dangerous as Tala Doneeta is, I'm the one who ducked without saying anything. That blaster bolt was meant for me. I didn't even yell 'duck!'"

Samedi and Cody both stood silent, while Quoreal remembering that she had confessed to an actual murder their first days there shouted with enough intensity to rupture blood vessels in his neck, "You should have, _tsup_!"

Cody smacked his palm across his forehead. He had tried to tell everyone everything before they met with Nightscream. Samedi, who knew the Quintessons, was on board, but Quoreal and Mirta were know having a private war of their own.


	16. 2-4 Hope and Doubt

Sanjay Patel looked across the beach as the Yautja, Vong, and Madalorian led a yellow-skinned Twi'lek and something that looked like a raptor from Jurassic Park into the camp. The word was that the dino's translator picked up a Quintesson message about the heat death of the universe, and the Twi'lek freaked, tortured Mirta, accidentally killing Claudelle while chasing Mirta. It was sad tragic…and convenient.

It seemed odd to Sanjay that their new leader, Nightscream, hadn't gotten this message already, considering that he had been living in a Quintesson facility on this planet for the past few years. It seemed odd that Baron Samedi walked into camp with no hint of tension in his muscles. Mirta and Quoreal would have looked more fit for handling dangerous criminals had they not so obviously been avoiding one another.

Sanjay had just made up his mind to talk to one of them when Durga the Hutt bellowed and became the center of attention.

"Not her! Not her!"

Everyone watched as he slowly turned his back to Doneeta and pushed his way to his spacious yet cramped tent as fast as his tail could carry him.

Doneeta recognized Durga, judging by the unnerved and surprised look on her face from finding him there. Everyone now knew that the two of them had history and that it wasn't good.

These new arrivals were clearly dangerous. Bringing them in was clearly a tactic to distract the survivors from the most dangerous "newcomer" of all: Nightscream himself. He had to preserve the secret that he'd gotten that Quintesson message and was the one who wanted no one to leave. Sanjay was not going to fall for it that easily however.

When the new arrivals were settled and their guard dispersed, Sanjay set out for the guard nearest himself.

Quoreal Rapuung sat by the ocean staring into nothingness.

"Trying to make sense of things?" Sanjay said from behind turned his upper torso.

"Mr. Patel."

Sanjay took a seat beside Quoreal. "Something troubles me. Nightscream has been at Quintesson base for how long, and this dinosaur, who shouldn't know any Quintesson to translate, is the one who tells us we can't leave."

"Hard to believe but true," Quoreal abruptly turned his face away as he began, indicating the truth was exactly the opposite.

"I can read body language and you just lied."

With a jerking motion, Quoreal's head snapped around, his teeth bared and venom in his eyes.

"There is only one lie you should concern yourself with. Tala Doneeta did not kill Claudelle Fontaine. Mirta Rau did."

Sanjay felt his mouth fly open. The reaction from Durga had confirmed that Doneeta was a killer, Rapuung's body language confirmed that Nightscream was a liar, but Mirta…

"You're not the only one who can read body language," Quoreal said. "You may not believe me but you should trust your own memory. Mirta confessed to cold-blooded murder before the Yautja stepped in two save his fellow warrior."

A memory which Sanjay thought had been long buried as the community came together resurfaced.

"If I can't trust Samedi, Mirta, Nightscream, or you, then who should I trust? My son is still a prisoner of a cult!"

Quoreal, having felt a recent loss, sympathized with Patel.

"Trust whoever can get your son back and worry about the rest later."

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The Mandolrian and the Hunter had left Tala on the east side of camp. Someone had apparently set up a tent for her , but they had not foreseen the necessity of separating her from Durga Besadii Tai. The tents were directly adjacent and she had no weapons. Those were all held back in what she called the "vault" with Nightscream. The Mandalorian and the Hunter could carry weapons in public, as they had the trust of the community. She, however, had nothing to but speed to protect herself from Durga's enormous body, should he want revenge for his father.

For his father…

The human girl had legitimately been an accident. When she'd shot the head of the Besadii Kajidic, that had been very intentional. Durga had more genuine reason to hate her than anyone else here, and, thanks to his outburst, everyone knew that there was something in their past. Nightscream's lie was not going to be enough to save her, but then it had never been about saving her, it had been about saving himself. They needed Lwothin and herself to help rescue some force-sensitive human boy from an apparently very real Neo-Sith cult.

As if on cue when she thought the word "Sith" she felt someone staring at her intensely, emanating waves of hate that even she, a non-Jedi, could pick up.

She turned. It was much worse than a Sith. It was Durga.

"You're a monster, you know."

Tala stood. She might as well meet the Hutt in a verbal battle if that was where he wanted to go. He wasn't known for wit among the great heirs of Kajidic families.

"Please, your father was a crime lord. How many innocents did he kill while you were sleeping peacefully in his palace?"

Durga sucked his lower lip. She had a good point though. His father was worse than she was, but still…

"Yeah, he did a lot more evil than you ever did, but you still killed him right in front of me! It takes a sick person to do that to a parent and child, even among criminals. And Mirta?"

Durga surprised her there. He said nothing about Claudelle.

"I didn't kill Mirta."

"Yeah, but you accidentally shot Claudelle while you were trying to kill her. What had she ever done to you?"

"I needed information, and her weapons. I didn't take anything she had to say about Sith or aliens from another galaxy seriously, especially not the part about some of them being the same species as the humans here." Tala then realized that she was leaving out the only element that could protect her. "When LKD-9D9 translated that message from the cybernetic squid, I freaked! Heat Death of the universe is a scary thing."

Durga stared at her quizzically for a moment.

"I thought you didn't know about the wormhole to the other galaxy. Wouldn't that be in the Quintesson message?"

"I didn't want it to be true," Tala lied with no hesitation. "Mirta Rau made it true. That's what she did to me!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Night had fallen. Most of the day had passed without incident, which was surprising given the animosity between Quoreal and Mirta, and Tala and Durga. Still Uxils knew that he had important work to do, and that it lay with the newcomer who had become most closely attached to the Quintesson heat death problem.

Lwothin was sleeping on a mattress outside his tent, as Ssi-Ruuk and P'w'eck were wont to do, when he awoke panting from a nightmare. He did not shout but turned his head in various directions until he saw Uxils.

The Utrom raised a tentacle to his mouth and made a soft "sshing" noise. He then crawled toward Lwothin.

"My name is Uxils. I don't believe we have met yet," he said quietly.

Lwothin turned on LKD-9D9 with low volume.

"This is Lwothin, and I am his portable communications droid, LKD-9D9, at your service."

Uxils bowed.

Lwothin hummed something softly.

"My master wishes to know what is the purpose of this visit."

Uxlis could read the tension in Lwothin's taught limbs and body.

"You are in a similar state to me when I first arrived. I want to help and maybe shed light on part of our purposes here."

Lwothin snorted.

"My master wants to know how you know of his state."

"You awoke just now panting and looking side to side/ I also got the message that you were confused about what to do with your life."

LKD-9D9 said something in P'w'eck, but Lwothin silenced him. He spoke again, this time to Uxils.

"My master wants to know: how do you know this about him?"

"When we crashed I was addicted to pain killers. I had withdrawals when my supply ran out, and I lost consciousness. I heard a voice that said life had meaning, and that we were hear on this planet, in this galaxy, for a reason."

Lwothin relaxed upon hearing this. Others might dismiss what Uxils had said as delirium, but the gods finding you when you were completely broken made since from a P'w'eck perspective.

"My master wishes to know: Did the gods speak to you?"

"I don't know who the voice was but it assured me that there's only one God."

"My master says that each caste has a god."

"All castes are one before my God. We may be called to different roles because of gender, species, or position, but our value to Him is the same"

Something about that struck deep in Lwothin's heart. His revolution had been about reversing the social order. He'd never considered a reality where it disappeared altogether.

"But we must speak about something more immediate. I know you didn't get the message from the Quintessons, and that our leaders may have done more harm than good with that story but the fact is we need to be here right now."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Another meeting occurred that night on the other side of the beach. Tala woke up with Durga's words raging in her head: "You're a sick person!"

"I'm not sick, I'm a professional!" She sat up, muttering in a hushed voice.

She emerged from her tent for a walk as sleep, or more accurately, pleasant sleep, was eluding her. Her gaze immediately fell on the only other person outside their tent: a human male siting near the water's edge, apparently staring at the Dathomiri moon.

She approached him.

"What's your excuse?"

"I'm sorry?" Sanjay asked as he turned his head, before saying, "Oh, it's you."

"Yes, it's me." She sat beside him.

"Why'd you accept the deal? Nightscream's lying about the message, and Mirta's the one who killed Claudelle."

"Mirta was running from me. I fired, she ducked. It was that simple."

"Well, she has killed someone in the past, so I still don't trust her."

I've killed multiple people, so you shouldn't trust me either, Tala thought but didn't say that aloud. This man didn't trust two of their leaders. Maybe she could use him…

"So why did you accept Nightscream's version of things? Your friend didn't get that message."

"Well, I did fire the blaster. Me being freaked out by learning I could never leave here makes me more understandable." Tala saw this as an opportunity to shift the direction of the conversation.

"The real question is why are you not buying the…" she was at a loss for describing a Technorganic Cybertronian, "whatever-he-is's version of events?"

"Because heat death is irrelevant. I believe the universe is cylical. It's born, it grows, it dies, it's reborn. We can't change that. We can change the here and now and my son is a hostage of the Sith. I don't want him to be a hostage to this galaxy."

Tala's face was all sympathy, but inside she was thinking, So he's the one with the kidnaped child. This is very—Tala stopped herself; Durga's words replayed themselves in her head: It takes a sick person to do that to a parent and child.

She really had done wrong to Durga in the past, wrong she couldn't make peace with. If she could help rescue this human child, that wouldn't erase what she'd done to Durga, but it would show that she had changed. She'd be able to make peace with that part of herself: the one thing she regretted.

She'd have to proceed with honesty with this one.

"In all honesty, you probably shouldn't trust me any more than anyone you mentioned, but I can promise you this much: I want to help you get your son back."

Sanjay wasn't surprised that he couldn't trust her, but what he didn't get was her interest in helping him.

"Why do you want to help my son?"

"To prove to myself that I'm a different person now. I killed Durga the Hutt's father in front of him. Even for someone in my line of work that's sick."

She wanted to redeem herself, not hide behind influential friends. Sanjay smiled.

"Maybe we can help each other."


	17. 2-5 Born in Prison

AN: I don't write sex scenes, but this info is relevant to the chapter: Noghri are ectothermic like reptiles, but their reproductive systems, at least in females, are mammalian. I'm mixing human and feline features here.

Meewal woke to a tight feeling in her chest. She set up slowly so as to not put undue stress on her body. She was slow enough not to wake Rukh who lay next to her, their limbs entwined. Female Noghri who were not in line to be a clan's Maitrakh were as trained in the tasks of farming or stealth warfare as well as any male. The fact that the Maitrakh and her line alone contained the essence of a clan was what limited her mobility and say outside a clan's borders. Their compensation was having total authority within a clan's boundaries. Still enough Maitrakhs-to-be learned some stealth from their fathers in their youth—just in case. Meewal had been one of them.

Rukh continued to breathe gently, motionless apart from the ever so slight rise and fall of his chest.

Meewal sat still on her edge of their mattress. The tight feeling in her chest had not gone away when she sat up; in fact it had gotten worse. It now felt like something was squeezing her esophagus. She bit back the urge to gag, grabbed her robe and rushed out of the tent.

It was still early morning. Few were up. Meewal staggered into the edge of the jungle and violently spewed the contents of her stomach from her mouth.

An intense flood of relief washed over her, though she noted she was dizzy. She had probably become that way while feeling sick, but only noticed it now. She crouched, leaning her back against the nearest tree.

She was not sure how long she rested there, but eventually the dizziness passed as had the nausea. Now that her body was calm she could turn her mind to what had caused her illness. Some of the survivors from the Republic had knowledge about what kinds of plants and animals were safe to eat here, and so far everyone had complied except for the first few days. There had been the fish that Rukh had caught with Mr. Patel and the Ibsem, the Mon Cal Sith infiltrator, but then Ibsem had been the one to identify which fish were safe to eat, and he had eaten them himself.

Her reaction could be allergic, but why then had it only occurred now days after Rukh had lost his friendship with Sanjay and started hunting with Samedi? That would only make since if it were the meat she were allergic to. That was what it must be, what it had to be.

The only other thing it could be was morning sickness. That couldn't happen here, now, when they could never leave. She mentally cursed herself and Rukh for being so careless. Still that was a real possibility. She needed the hunter/doctor's imaging to determine if she really had a child within her.

Rukh had become increasingly protective of her since the Sith encounter, but he had been away training or hunting since then. She had been free to walk about, talk, and make connections. She had to return to the tent and wake him. He would count himself a failure should something happen to his Maitrakh in alien territory when he would be able to prevent it. She'd humor him by letting him escort her to Samedi.

Once back inside the tent she approached her husband, and tugged at the mattress. He blinked and then raised himself to a sitting position. He noted that his wife was standing and clothed.

Unless something were wrong, she should be next to him sleeping.

"Meewal? What's wrong?"

She sat next to him.

"I woke up needing to vomit."

Rukh felt a chill.

"I'm hoping it's an allergy to the meat," she said while looking away, then she looked him directly in the eyes. "I cannot be pregnant."

Rukh understood well. They were trapped here, by the doing of these mysterious "Quintessons." A child born here would be a prisoner. He also knew who was responsible for this mess. Quickly raising the covers, he reached for his own garments. Before he put his fingerless gloves on he fell to his knees and pleaded, "Maitrakh, forgive my recklessness—"

"Silence!" Meewal commanded. "This is not Honoghr, I'm not a Maitrakh, and I wanted what we did as much as you. Now if you are going to be helpful, take me to see the hunter."

Rukh snapped to attention at her.

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Neither Yautja nor Noghri were endotherms. The former, who saw in the infrared spectrum, distinguished each other the same way that they distinguished trees, by shape and scent. Scent was also the primary way female Yautja, who also gave live birth, could be identified as being with child.

Samedi, not knowing Noghri scents, but fortunately null body heat did not matter in this instance. His visor would have to read motion see through Meewal's body to make a shape. Heat would be helpful, but a general shape would still appear.

He thought the whole thing premature: a small cluster of cells shouldn't be detectable so soon. Still, the Lady Meewal informed him that Noghri pregnancies progressed much more rapidly: three months to the human nine, and therefore shorter than Yautja pregnancies. In all cases, the most rapid period of cell division began immediately after fertilization.

Sure enough, there was an object with a clear head, and developing appendages.

Samedi disengaged his visor.

He read the look in Meewal and Rukh's eyes. He had to deliver bad news.

"I hate to disappoint you, but you are pregnant."

Meewal snarled in anger and Rukh gently placed his hand around her upper arm on one side and her shoulder on the other.

"I'm sorry," Samedi said simply.

Meewal nodded and turned to Rukh.

"We have a lot to think about." Rukh nodded.

Then knowing that Rukh would not act unless she gave the order, said, "Let's go back to the tent."

Rukh nodded and the two set off, leaving Samedi to think about what had happened. There was already Shalx and her baby for whom only the Milky Way could be home and for whom nothing could be done. Meewal and Rukh, on the other hand, they were still in their home galaxy, and they had intentionally disappeared from Honoghr. If the Sith were defeated and the survivors had access to their ships…Samedi had to stop.

If they had access to their ships, everyone from the Republic would want to go home. They could all promise not to betray the confidence of what had happened there, but should the presumed dead turn up alive…questions would have to be asked. The specter of Quintesson heat death would not melt away so easily.

Samedi cast his gaze to the shore where Shalx was cradling her little girl, Srel, in her tentacles.

The war between the camps that had been closely avoided under Cody's leadership would resurface when the Sith were gone, assuming they could be defeated. But if they were, the civil war would begin. When Claudelle spared his life, Yeyinde thought that could be a new beginning. But that was gone: Claudelle was dead and one side would have to follow her into death. He couldn't return to being Yeyinde, the Brave One. He had to be Baron Samedi, the bringer of death.

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Samedi told everything to the meeting he'd convened at the Quintesson base. Many faces, many perspectives confronted him at the circular steel table. Quoreal had the resigned look that told him war, no matter how much he hated it was the natural state of the universe and that innocents would always bear the brunt.

Mirta was among those who knew her, so she did not cover her face behind her stolen Taung-inspired Mandalorian helmet. Her indignation was plain for all to see.

"I don't believe this!" She shouted at Nightscream. "People have to die to protect your precious little secret! Power is really that important to you?"

Nightscream's tone was all defensive but it became calmer toward the end.

"No, I don't want anyone to die! The whole purpose of the lie was to keep a mob from killing me, Tala, or Lwothin! If you think my stepping down will save lives I'll do that. I never asked to be your leader, I'm just trying to keep heat death of the universe from happening."

Something then clicked in Mirta's head. She turned to Cody.

"You? You made him leader?"

Cody nodded, realizing that his hero worship had just been a way to pass on his responsibilities. He had never in his adult life been more ashamed of himself.

"Was the lie your idea, too."

"I was trying to save lives," Cody said lacking any conviction.

The next voice to speak was the least pleasant one yet.

"Jones couldn't handle the job so he handed it over to Nightscream, but no one trusts him for reasons entirely of Jones's making. Maybe it's time the Trishreddatron tries his hand at leadership."

Quoreal finally spoke, the disgust on his face difficult to read due to the almost constant scowl he now wore.

"You are a hardened career criminal," then Quoreal turned to Mirta, "Like others present."

Mirta did not dispute that. She might have been shocked at how far Cody had sunk, but she knew her own past was nothing to be proud of.

"Are we going to trade insults all day or try to get something accomplished?" Shredder demanded. "We'll have to destroy the ships so no one can leave."

Cody wanted to say something, at that exact moment, but reseated himself as soon as he started to stand. His last idea at solving everything had been what caused this mess.

"We can't do that," Nightscream said with a rare hint of anger in his voice. He transformed from beast to robot mode and stood. "The people from the Milky Way can't go back home, but the people from this galaxy could." His voiced sounded empathetic at the end, completely shocking Mirta, who had viewed him until this meeting as an unfeeling dictator.

"The Noghri couple are going to have a child in three months. It would not be right to force it to live its life in exile." Nightscream began walking around the table as he talked. "They were already missing on Honoghr. They should be able to keep the secret."

"I can vouch for Rukh and the Lady Meewal," Samedi said as Nightscream walked behind him, causing the Maximal to pause.

"But," Samedi continued, "I can't vouch for anyone else."

"And a sudden reappearance of those the galaxy believes to be dead would open a whole new can of worms that goes back to our original problem," Shredder said, sitting with folded hands. "Some of the ships would have to get destroyed in the fight."

That's just lying to the community again, Cody thought and lent forward. Nightscream noticed.

"Cody?"

"Deceiving the community was what got us here. Anyone from this galaxy should be able to leave, even tell the Republic about the Sith if they want, but not about us. We are the only thing the Quintessons warned about."

Nightscream smiled, and said, "You should make that call, Cody. The people trust you. But," Nightscream paused for emphasis, "You really have to stress that they can't mention us or both galaxies are doomed."

With those words, Cody felt the mantle of leadership pass back to him. He then realized all the wrong he had done to Nightscream.

"I never should have put you in this position. I was a coward."

Mirta for some unexplainable reason was glad to hear Cody say this: not just for him as a leader but for something deeper: something impossible. They were from different galaxies. Galaxies that could never meet. And she still had a great deal of her own to atone for.

 **Despite Cody stepping up, damage has already been done, and the Sith are taking advantage of it next chapter.**


	18. 2-6 Falls the Shadow

Sanjay was uneasy standing in the edge of the woods in the moonlight, this far from camp. It was necessary to be some distance away so as not to be caught by the local powers that be. Still, this jungle was uncharted and therefore part of his greatest enemies' territories: the Sith.

A twig snapped, and all the muscles in his body twitched. He spun, only for Tala Doneeta to hold up her hands and say, "It's only me."

Sanjay sighed in relief, but then noticed that both her hands were empty.

"You don't have a blaster?"

She scowled and pulled a small blaster out of her pocket. It was silver and had a triangular shape, small enough to hold securely with two fingers and one of them could go the trigger—designed to be held by a Quintesson tentacle, Sanjay registered. Tala held it up and focused on it intently.

"This was all I could steal without getting caught."

She walked over and handed the Quintesson weapon to him. It was deceptively light.

"Designed to be undetectable by the Yautja. We're in business!"

Tala was already shaking her head.

"It's not the hunter you need to worry about. It's the Sith, and the can deflect lasers with their hands."

"Only if they know I'm coming. We just need to get my son and we're gone." He looked away from the tiny blaster to Tala and said, "That's where you come in."

Tala removed an identical device from her other pocket.

"We need more than just two people. There has to be some kind of distraction. Didn't you say the Triceraton is Force-sensitive?"

Sanjay shook his head. "He's one of our leaders."

"So, we find some way to make it worth his while."

"Yes, we do want to become better acquainted with the Shredder," a voice that seemed to come from nowhere said.

As Tala looked around to find a source for that voice, Sanjay noticed a figure step out of what had essentially been camouflage a few meters ahead. The foliage was thick and cast long shadow, which a figure wearing dark robes could wait in for quite a while without being seen.

Sanjay pointed the small Quintesson blaster at the figure.

"I want my son back!"

"There are no needs for threats, we intend to reunite you. But he has great potential that can only thrive through our nurturing."

Tala recognized the accent, Coruscanti Basic.

"Who are you?" she asked, expecting to see the visage of an elderly human when he came into view.

Much to her shock she saw a Falleen with Zabrak horns.

"Me? I'm just a Sith. One who came here to talk you out of your suicidal quest to rescue the boy." The hybrid then looked to Sanjay. "We would never try to separate a parent from a child for no reason. Ask yourself, how would that help us in and of itself?"

"Because you're servants of pure darkness!"

The hybrid let out a breathy "Ha! You speak just like a Jedi. Our leader is called Darth Shadow. Can shadows exist in pitch black? There are many aspects to the Force. A Sith knows them all."

Sanjay didn't want to hear any more about the Force.

"My son isn't from this galaxy! If I took your word, which I don't, he'd never be able to come home!" Sanjay emphasized that he didn't take the Sith's word with an index finger pointed directly at him. The Sith, for his part, understood the gesture.

"We would not be as interested in an apprentice from another galaxy if he could not take our teachings back with him," the Sith said in measured calmness, before dipping into a more concerned tone, "Are you sure that this isn't just about you not wanting him to a religious group to use him, _again_?"

Tala grew pale.

Sanjay simply shot back, "How do _you_ know that?"

"Simple. We asked your son."

Suddenly Sanjay felt relieved. They weren't reading his boy's mind. They were just talking to him.

"Trust me, your son wants to make a difference in your galaxy, but," the Sith inhaled, "he knows you want to hold him back, but" he inhaled again, "he loves you and wants to see you."

Sanjay was now focusing entirely on the Sith as a gateway to his son.

"Is he well?"

"Very, and he wants to see you—

Tala interrupted.

"Sanjay don't listen to him! The Sith are liars!"

The hybrid shouted over the Twi'lek and made no attempt to Force Choke her.

"Should you trust the word of a career criminal who has killed dozens in her career? Oh yes, Tala Doneeta, we know of you."

Sanjay stood looking between them for a moment. Tala knew more about this galaxy than he did, but if… _if_ he trusted the Sith, he could see his son again.

While he was struggling, the Sith said something that shocked both of them.

"Does the name 'Quintesson' mean anything to either of you?"

Both stared at him in shock.

"We have a guest from the Milky Way, an Utrom named Krang. He was sent here by our tentacled friends."

The Sith was no longer the most dangerous figure in either of their minds.

"Nightscream! He said we can't leave because the Quintessons couldn't have the two galaxies knowing about each other," Sanjay began…

"And everything he has done has been to hang on to power.."

The Sith whom neither of them knew to be Darth Shadow, smiled inwardly. This Nightscream reminded him of Lord Sidious. But back to business…

"You cannot trust your leaders. The fact that the Hunter and Mandalorian both _wear_ weapons systems as clothing is troubling. They need to be neutralized for your own sakes, and our leader needs to speak with Cody Jones."

That surprised both of them at first, but Sanjay quickly understood.

"You want him to balance what you heard from Krang."

"Exactly. Please help us with these goals and we will reunite you with your son. There is so much he wants to tell you. But these dangerous people need to no longer be in a position to threaten any of us."

Sanjay thought about what the Sith said, and realized how much of it he agreed with.

The human and Twi'lek were buying everything Shadow had fed them and helped get him exactly where he wanted to be. With both of his legs shot by the strange blasters that they had, he could not walk—at least not until he focused on healing himself. There was plenty of time to do that in prison, which is where the camp sent him immediately.

* * *

The room was a steely white, and purple energy bars separated him from the non-Force users. There was a single silver One of them seemed to be half-organic half-droid. He had already seen the creature that Krang referred to as a Yautja when he'd first abducted the child. The others were recognizable: a human male with dark hair and light skin, a dark haired olive-skinned human female in Mandalorian armor that obviously did not fit her, a Yuuzhan Vong male from the warrior caste—Shadow had killed many of them in the war. He didn't count the other figure as one of them, because the Trishredatron was a Force-user.

"Who are you?" The dark haired human asked.

"A servant of the Sith," Shadow answered. Strange, he'd expected Nightscream to be something other than human.

"Does this servant have a name?" the Shredder asked.

"My function is enough to answer your questions in lieu of a name," Shadow said. They weren't convinced. Good he didn't expect them to be.

"We met a Chiss woman who said that the Sith's leader was Falleen. You're Falleen," the Mandalorian said.

Shadow pulled back his hood, revealing his horns.

"My scales are Falleen, my horns are Zabrak. Our leader heads a Falleen noble house, they don't typically like half-breeds like me." Everything he just said was true; he was both a half-breed and a Falleen noble, but few people knew this because the Falleen attitude towards hybrids was well known. He could read their emotions well enough to know they'd now bought his story. The best lies were ones that overemphasized parts of the truth at the expense of others, rather than total fabrications.

"Why are you here?" The Yautja asked. From what he'd learned from Krang about the Milky Way, Nightscream could be a Yautja name.

"I was sent here to spy on you, and got captured." He paused, and looked at the Hunter with mandibles, "Are you their leader?"

Before the Hunter could respond, the human male said, "I'm in charge here. My name's Cody Jones."

Shadow listened carefully to the _way_ Cody responded. He was quick to emphasize his leadership. Had there been a contest or…was that guilt Shadow heard? Had Jones voluntarily given up leadership to this "Nightscream" only to reassert it now?

"You don't sound too sure of yourself, Mr. Jones." A statement too far, but then that was the point. Cody walked out of the room calling his subordinates out with him. "Samedi," the Yautja turned, "Quorreal", a Vong name, "Mirta," the Mandalorian, "Nightscream," the Cyborg turned finally revealing his identity, and finally "Shredder..Shredder!" Cody repeated.

"I think I'll stay. Keep an eye on our friend here."

Cody looked back at Shadow and then to Shredder.

"Are you sure?"

Shredder spun and snarled, "The Sith probably have Krang and no a good deal about our galaxy. I want to find out how much!"

Cody looked at Shadow again and said unsurely, "If you think you can handle it," before reluctantly leaving through the sliding doors. Now Shredder and Shadow were alone together: the sole purpose for which the Sith Lord allowed himself to be captured.

"What has your master done with Krang?" The Triceraton demanded.

Inwardly, Shadow smiled. Such raw anger was a good sign, especially if he was reading Shredder correctly.

"Our master has learned much about your galaxy from him, but I find something curious," Shadow said in his carefully measured style, "Why do you care about the well-being of a master who has emotionally manipulated you and all your predecessors—"

Shredder snarled at the word "master," and his eyes were boiling with anger.

"Krang was _never_ my sensei! I don't care what he's going through! He deserves all the torture you can give him, but if he dies, secrets about my galaxy's underworld will die with him," Shredder said.

"And you fear that without Krang to guide you, you will never rule your galaxy's underworld yourself," Shadow said slowly.

Shredder huffed and turned his eyes away, confirming his words to both Shadow and himself.

"Krang may never have been your _sensei_ in martial arts, but in being a criminal leader…" Shadow held his long Falleen hand open as if to emphasize the open-endedness of his question.

Shredder knew that what the Sith said was true, didn't want to dwell on it, and shifted the focus of the conversation.

"It doesn't matter what I need Krang for, as I'm stuck in your galaxy and unless you tell your leader to stop investigating mine, we're all going to die."

"Was this something the Quintessons said?"

Shredder felt a chill run down his spine when this Sith mentioned someone he should not know about. Unless…

"What did Krang say?!"

"Only that they are the most technologically advanced species in your galaxy, that they have been here before," Shadow paused for a minute as he had forgotten something, before blurting, "Oh, and they're the ones who specifically told him to be on the ship that was going to crash here." He said it as if it were a forgotten item on a grocery list that he suddenly remembered. Shredder, on the other hand, his blood was boiling.

"Everything they said about our two galaxies meeting before the proper time…"

"May or may not have been true. It hardly matters now, since they clearly consider this the proper time, which means _we_ must deal with them now."

Shredder locked eyes with Shadow. "Yes, _we_ must."


	19. 2-7 Shredder's Path

Shredder had spent a great deal of time with the Sith guest. Apparently, he'd learned from his initial captors, Patel and Doneeta, that all this business about not leaving the planet was the Maximal Nightscream's way of holding power over the group. He had looked almost depressed when he learned that the message was true but that the lie had been arranged by Cody Jones, to save Tala Doneeta and her Ssi-Ruu's life after they had killed a human woman from the Milky Way. He appeared even more dejected when he learned the Nightscream never wanted power and was forced into the position when Jones had basically abdicated. Furthermore, the Transformer had been almost relieved when Jones resumed leadership.

The morose Sith simply said, "Apparently not so much like Lord Sidious as I would have wished." He yawned. "Ah well, his loss. However, this Cody Jones, while he may be a coward, we are very interested in him."

That stirred Shredder's jealousies and insecurities.

"What does your leader want with him? He can't even use the Force!" The Triceraton whined.

"Nor can Krang. Our master has the perspective of a Milky Way criminal mastermind. Now he wants the perspective of a respected Milky Way businessman."

Shredder relaxed a little but the Sith then said something that put him on edge: "Anger is powerful, but it is best spent on others, not in wallowing in self-pity. Our Master saw great potential in you, but complaining about your perceived missed opportunities will not hone your skills. Seizing them will."

Shredder looked at the prisoner in the eyes.

"And what opportunity are you trying to seize here? Unless you are one of the weakest Sith here there is only explanation for you getting captured so easily: you meant for it to happen."

"Indeed. Our master wants to be your sensei, but let's keep the knowledge of the Quintessons' impending arrival our little secret."

So far, Shredder had not shared that information with anyone, for which he was sure the Sith was grateful. But one thing troubled him.

"What makes you think I want to be a Sith? I already have a commitment to the Foot."

"You need not sacrifice one for the other. Our leader is the Underlord of Black Sun and a prince on Falleen. Both positions serve the Sith's purposes. Who knows? The Foot could be our route to influence in the Milky Way."

That was what Shredder wanted to hear about, a more powerful Foot, with Krang out of the way, and himself as a fully trained undisputed Force-Sensitive leader.

"You're right. I do want to learn the ways of the Force, so why don't I kidnap Jones, rescue you, and return to your base today. As you've pointed out we don't have much time before our Cephalopod overlords arrive."

The Sith allowed himself a small grin but shook his head. "No, Shredder, not yet. We already have a plan for Jones, but in the meantime, we want to create fear and confusion here. The Sith feed on these things. Try feeding on them yourself. You'll know when to come to us."

* * *

Shalx was trying to feed her newborn with a small paste made from the innards of local crustaceans that she had smudged on some leaves. She dipped a recently washed tentacle into the paste to bring some to her little one's mouth.

"Okay, honey, open up."

The tiny baby Utrom could only suck a little at the end of her mother's tentacle, the end of her parent's appendage being too large to fit in her mouth.

Shalx thought for a moment about how small a larval Utrom was compared to an adult. Her little Shlizet's entire body could fit on one of her tentacles. There was something about this that she couldn't describe with any word except _sweet_.

Her baby who she'd spent the last several moments worrying she couldn't care for had actually been a gift. Her duties of motherhood had kept her out of the more political ordeals that had beset the camp lately. No Quintesson mandates, no leadership disputes; her little girl took up her whole universe. Her only worries were about the "Sith" or whatever they called themselves. Cults scared her. Uxils scared her. It wasn't that she didn't believe there was a higher power—most Utrom did—but the idea of speaking to him or it or whatever pronoun fit the Higher Power on a personal level—that just wasn't normal.

Suddenly, Shlizet spit out all that her mother had just put in her mouth, and then she started hacking out orange fluid.

Shalx gently wrapped a tentacle around Shlizet and cradled her, but her moans only grew. The needed the Yautja.

Shalx began to pull herself across the sand with her tentacles as fast as she could.

Uxils and Lwothin were staring out across the sea when they heard Shalx grunting. They could see that Shlizet was not well, and without him even asking, the P'w'eck bent his head to the ground and pushed forward until Uxils was atop his maw. Before the Utrom could ask him what he was doing he rushed toward Shalx, bringing Uxils with him. The Utrom's body was apparently not hindering the P'w'eck's sense of sight—well not much anyway.

They stopped just short of Shalx who stopped pulling herself forward. She got the point.

"Let us up."

Lwothin said nothing, to spare everyone LKD-9D9's translating an untranslatable grunt. He crouched low to the ground, allowing Shalx to climb his tail and settle on his back.

She looked to Uxils.

"Your friend is very considerate."

"Yes. He is."

"Maybe I should be dating _him_ ," she said just to annoy Uxils.

Lwothin risked snorting and coughing.

"My master does not rely approve of the idea."

Shalx who hadn't been serious in the first place openly told Lwothin as much.

"My master is very relieved," came the voice of the interpreter droid.

She did however view this "P'w'eck" or whatever his species was as a good neighbor.

* * *

The Trishreddatron watched the medical drama that was unfolding with anger. There was anger with the Yautja's incompetence at not being able to help the child; anger with the Quintessons for stranding them here in this alien galaxy where they had no immunity to the local pathogens, anger that the leaders here didn't have to remain trapped here but—they didn't know. The captive Sith had shared the secret about his master—no! Krang was _not_ his master!—the Sith had shared that knowledge with the Trishreddatron and the Trishreddatron alone. He was angry with the Sith for putting those kinds of conditions on him and most of all he was angry with himself for letting himself being dictated too _again_.

It wouldn't have mattered what he had said, they'd have had no way of getting back to home or curing the child even if they did.

He saw the pained look on the baby Utrom's face. Zed Ram was a very cold and ruthless sentient. He could have risen to lead the Foot if he weren't, but even he didn't like seeing babies in pain. He wanted to do something to soothe her, but if the "doctor"/hunter couldn't—

 _You're Force-sensitive, moron!_ Shredder yelled at himself. _Remember what the Sith said, feed on the fear and confusion._

He closed his eyes, forced his focus on the child's body, and saw a twisted portion of the child's intestinal tract. Through his sheer anger, he forced it to assume a normal shape for her age and species.

It was not a pleasant experience for the child, as she shrieked in intense pain as he literally yanked her intestines back into shape.

By this point several people had noticed the Triceraton's closed eyes and moving hand.

"Stop it! You're hurting her!" Uxils shouted, but Shredder ignored him.

Samedi tackled Shredder, but it didn't matter, as he had finished.

The baby had stopped shrieking, and the mother could see a smile on her face.

Shlizet cooed peacefully.

Everyone stared at the baby and the Triceraton.

"Get off me," he said in a mildly annoyed voice to the Predator, who complied.

Shalx seemed to be satisfied, but he could read the look of disappointment on Uxils's face. He looked at his fellow Saurian, Lwothin.

"Is anyone going to give me credit for doing the right thing?" The focus in Shredder's mind having already shifted from the child's actual health to how he could use his new ability to consolidate power among the group.

"Look at you!" He said to Samedi. "What kind of doctor are you supposed to be? All your experience comes from chopping up prey! My power comes from the Force!"

"I don't know much about the force, but I'm pretty sure that what you did was evil," Uxils said.

"Oh, would you just shut up!" Shalx said to Uxils. "He cured my baby!"

She looked straight at the Trishreddatron. "Thank you, Mr. Shredder."

"My pleasure." Inside he was already thinking about how to take down the current leadership and ally with the Sith. If they were offering to train to use these powers, they would be great allies right now. And if they ever betrayed him, well…he'd make sure his training was complete by then.

* * *

Darth Shadow was deep in meditation, a sinister smile spread and maintained on his lips. There had been great fear, confusion, and anger wrought in the camp today, and Shadow enjoyed the feast. He licked his lips without realizing, so delighted he was. Those stranded here were after all merely practice. His apprentices were ready, he was ready. A hundred and thirty years was enough time to be absent. The larger galaxy that he had once aspired to rule, when he had been a backup for Sidious, should Vader fail, was now about to be in a position that would favor the Sith's return. He had not wanted to confront the First Order head on, and the Yuuzhan Vong were a missed opportunity. But acknowledging the existence of an entire separate galaxy with which his own would have regular contact changed the entire situation in ways only he knew how to manipulate.

He paused his musings when he felt a distinct presence. He had not known it long enough to call it "familiar" but it was certainly unmistakable.

He opened his eyes.

"Hello, Shredder."

The Triceraton didn't return the greeting. He simply approached the cell and demanded, "I want to meet your leader. There is much I can learn from your order."

He was brimming with confidence. It would have fooled Shadow had he not pried all he could out of Krang. The confidence hid a deep reservoir of insecurities which the Utrom criminal had played upon to turn the Trishreddatron into his obedient slave. So much the better. More insecurities meant more fear which could mean more anger, which could mean more power.

"You tested me today, and I'd say I passed."

There was only one thing to which Shredder could be referring.

Shadow nodded, "Yes, the Utrom baby's sickness was my doing. And you fixed it. Well done."

"This group now sees me as a possible leader."

"You're welcome."

Shredder then turned ugly. Force-choking Shadow through sheer will power, he demanded, "You will take me to your leader so I can be trained properly!"

Shadow fought back and Shredder became confused when his grip was broken.

"How?!"

"I control my anger. I know how not to use an ax when a scalpel will do. Something you would do well to learn." Shadow's own tone turned nasty and condescending.

Shredder barked back. "But that's just it! I want to learn!"

Shadow waxed sympathetic, "And you will, in time. Use your powers to lead this group when Jones is our prisoner. When we are done extracting information from his pathetic brain we will send you a message through the Force."

"And how am I supposed to know it when I get it? I'm new to the Force."

"Trust me, it will be a nightmare."


	20. 2-8 Two Fronts

AN: I haven't seen any of _Star Wars Rebels_ except "Twilight of the Apprentice." I began this story before season 3 started. From what I've learned about Darth Maul, the first chapter of "Shadows of the Sith" no longer fits with canon, but the rest: Maul briefly forms an alliance with some Falleen nobles who hate Vader and one of whom steals a DNA sample—is still Darth Shadow's origin story.

Cody was not sure what to make of the Sith's terms. They'd exchange Muni Patel for the prisoner. If everything that the inhabitants of this galaxy had told him about the Sith were true, he didn't expect them to exchange someone as powerful with "The Force" as they deemed Muni to be in exchange for a low-ranking prisoner. Still, it would be a good chance to face the Sith with the forces that they had been training. Samedi, Mirta, Quorreal, Rukh, Tala, and Lwothin would all be coming. Nightscream had to stay behind to tend to the maintenance of the Quintesson base. Shredder, a Force-sensitive himself would stay behind to protect the camp.

That led to the two who didn't really belong,

As leader and chief negotiator, Cody himself had to go. However, he, like Sanjay Patel, had no military experience. Sanjay however also had to go despite sharing Cody's lack of qualifications, if there was even a chance that they had his son with them, he had to be there.

As the two of them both picked up blasters in the armory, Cody looked at Sanjay.

"You do realize that this is probably a trap, right?"

Sanjay seemed to have his mind elsewhere, as he said, as if in a daze, "We don't know much about the Sith."

Cody tried to look Sanjay in the eye.

"You're right, we don't. But they have kidnaped two of us, one of them your son!"

That brought Sanjay sharply back to the present. His gaze grew intense.

"They might not be hurting him. They want to _train_ him to be someone important."

"They want him to be someone evil," Cody pointed out.

"How do you know that?" Sanjay asked. Cody seemed confused for a minute. Sanjay didn't give him a chance to respond.

"Would you automatically accept anything Nightscream says about any Predacons?"

Cody waited a moment to answer. He wanted to be careful.

"About Megatron, yes, but not about Predacons as a whole."

Sanjay nodded, "Then why should we judge all Sith by this Darth Sidious character? From what I've heard he was pretty similar psychologically to the original Megatron."

"The difference is that Predacons and Decepticons are Cybertronian ethnic group. The Sith are an order. Not all Predacons are like the Megatrons."

Sanjay didn't backdown. "Not all Sith are Sidious. The order has had 130 years to reflect on what they did wrong."

Cody started listening.

"These people only remember what their grandparents told them of this Sidious guy. They know about as much about Darth Shadow as we do."

"What about his other self?" Cody said.

"Other self?"

"The Falleen nobleman."

Sanjay seemed surprised.

"How do you know…"

"The Chiss woman. She said their leader was a Falleen and that he raped her."

Sanjay hesitated for a minute. What if he was being played?

"But," Cody said a bit more hopefully, "He clearly promoted a hybrid to a position of power. Pureblood Falleen look down on our friend in the cell. Darth Shadow clearly didn't."

Sanjay smiled.

* * *

"The camp's yours, Shredder. Think you can handle things 'till we get back?"

The Triceraton had an unusual level of calm about him. He glanced at the Sith who the group held in Quintesson energy-manacles. They stood on the edge of the jungle, Sith territory. The non-forested beach in the background was Shredder's territory. The Sith would get what they wanted out of Jones, and then Shredder, already leader at the beach, would be ready to begin his Sith apprenticeship. Finally, he, not Krang, would be leader of the Foot, and Zed Ram as a trained Force-sensitive Sith Lord would finally be a worthy Triceraton. His relatively scrawny build would no longer matter. His gladiator great-grandfather Monza Ram would finally look down with pride.

"Of course, Jones. I always keep those in my charge safe, and our biggest threat is going to be preoccupied with you until you get back." Everything he said was true. He did always take care of those under his command; the Sith would be preoccupied with extracting knowledge from Cody; and should he make it back they would have no further use for them. This was actually one of the calmest moments that Zed Ram had felt in his entire life. He decided he could actually let the Foot's archenemy off easily.

"I hope there isn't too much trouble for y'all ahead." His tone acknowledged the danger ahead, and despite his alliance with the Sith, Zed really did hope that what lay ahead was not any more difficult than it needed to be.

"Thanks, man," Cody said in genuine gratitude.

"Don't mention it," Zed said, just as sincere in his Oklahoma drawl.

Cody looked at the group. "It's time to head out."

"Good luck," Shredder said. Cody ran to what consisted of his A- B- and C- teams. Taking Sanjay and the Sith with them, they disappeared into the jungle.

Shredder watched them until the dense foliage completely shielded them from his view.

Shredder suddenly felt a distinct presence approach. He turned.

"Hello, Durga," he said to the Hutt.

"Are you sure it's a good idea to have all our best people on this?" The slug was clearly uneasy. The Triceraton half-sat half-lay in the sand and sprawled out his legs, his posture and tone exuding the very concept of relaxation.

"I don't see very much to worry about, and I should know sense I can feel the Force. Everything is going to work out in what's best for everyone."

Durga tried to process what his temporary leader was saying, but his bulging eyes every few seconds betrayed his nervousness.

"What's wrong? Don't tell me it's about the Sith," Shredder said in genuine concern.

"Well, we have experience with them. You don't."

 _And you'll want them when the Quints get here_ , Shredder thought until he realized where his attention had to be to secure his control. His posture tensed and he pulled himself up.

"What's wrong?"

"I was wrong, Durga. We _do_ have a problem, but it's not the Sith. It's that liar Nightscream!"

* * *

Yeyinde, the Yautja who called himself Baron Samedi, stood on one side of the Sith prisoner, while the disgraced Mandalorian Mirta Rau stood on the other. Everyone in the company was ready for some kind of trap, but so far, the greatest difficulty that they had encountered was the Sith's incessant mouth.

"It really is a pity that neither of you are Force-sensitive. So much anger, such potential. The Force isn't an option, but with your skills sets, you'd have successful careers as vigilantes."

Mirta, still felt guilty over the lifestyle their captive was describing.

"Already tried it. Didn't take."

"I hope that's regret and not self-pity. That is the one emotion that can _never_ be productive."

Mirta stopped for a moment, forcing the whole group to stop with her. A sense of dread broke out and there were multiple hushed voices about what was happening. Cody was walking toward them.

"So you can read minds?" She said loud enough for everyone to hear. It was half a statement half a question.

Everyone was listening to the Sith's answer.

"We are all trained to read emotion. It was all in your tone."

Cody felt a slight measure of relief with the answer.

"Let's keep going."

In a whispered tone the Sith continued speaking, "I think everyone could just feel torrents of fear."

No response. He considered targeting Mirta again, but she was pretty clear that she wanted out of the vigilante line of work. But then, there was the Hunter from the Milky Way who hadn't responded yet. According to Krang, there was material here to press. He turned his head.

"How about you, Hunter? Have you considered it? Being a vigilante?"

"I already am," a gravely voice responded.

"Your people hunt other sentients for sport?"

"And dangerous animals. A sentient or a dangerous animal, most Yautja don't see a difference."

"So you view yourselves as the pinnacle of your galaxy."

"Most Yauja do."

"But you aren't most Yautja." It wasn't a question. Suddenly, the Yautja was angry.

"No, I'm not, but you wouldn't understand."

The Sith laughed.

"I've never been betrayed by my own, but I know what it is like to feel as though you have. Sometimes the ambitions of the individual must be sacrificed for the survival of the order."

"And sometimes the order demands something that violates the individual's honor," Samedi said revealing more than he was too late to realize he should.

"And just how did your people want you to violate your own honor? You don't seem to be ruled by ego…" The Sith needed no further words to peer into the part of Samedi's core that he had just ignorantly laid bare.

"Compassion?"

Samedi did not answer, but he knew that it was already obvious. He listened to the Sith continue, "But you doubt yourself. You know compassion can be a weakness, and it weighs on you."

"All too well."

And these were the last words that the two of them exchanged.

* * *

Everyone on the beach stood at attention as the Trishreddatron walked back and forth along a stretch of shoreline.

"Friends, fellow survivors from the Milky Way and the Republic alike, we have for some time now been living under the idea that none of us can leave this planet. If our two galaxies learned of each other, according to the Quintessons, it would mean that heat death of the universe becomes inevitable."

Shredder paused. He could tell by the looks on their faces that the crowd was already suspecting he'd found a way around the Quintesson dilemma from how his speech had started. That was good, but they—especially those from the Republic needed a healthy fear of the most technologically sophisticated species in the known universe.

"I see some of you are already looking relieved—don't. The Quintessons are all millions of years old, kept alive by cybernetics and a cloning system that transfers memories, furthermore they have mastered time travel. Though they have been defeated numerous times, when they make a threat, you'd better believe they can back it up."

He saw depression, especially own the female Noghri's face.

"But, remember," Shredder emphasized the next fact, "They have been defeated _numerous_ times by groups less advantaged than themselves."

Hope seemed to be rekindled.

"We have a piece of information, information that they didn't want us to have. I only realized it while interrogating our Sith prisoner." Shredder paused. The next part was going to be painful for him to say: Krang wasn't his master; not in the way he'd hoped Darth Shadow would be—as a sensei.

"My…master…Krang told me we had to meet a specific contact…that we needed to leave at the specific time we did. The Sith extracted from Krang that the one who told him this was a Quintesson."

Stunned silence among some of the survivors met with rapid whispering among others.

"I know that many of you do not trust the Sith, but I know that this information comes straight from Krang himself. He told me about the contact, and the meeting long before we knew this galaxy even existed!"

They were all now eagerly listening to the Trishreddatron.

"There is only one person this contact could be. There has only been one person from my galaxy who has been here this entire time and who manages a Quintesson research facility—the Maximal Nightscream!"

Now everyone was whispering, and Shredder saw this as the best opportunity to put his own spin on recent events.

"Y'all remember how he tried to use this Quintesson heat death business to take Cody's place as _our_ leader?" Shredder stressed the word "our" to solidify himself with Jones and to cast himself as faithfully executing the latter's will. Now he had to cover his back as he had been one of the very ones to talk Cody into handing the reigns over to Nightscream in the first place.

"I'll admit, Nightscream had me pretty scared too, and I thought he knew what he was doing, but remember my perspective. I'm a Triceraton from earth. The Quintessons are the biggest bads in my galaxy's history. I trusted him, but I already knew Krang was looking for a contact."

The whispers turned to jeers.

"A contact we now know was working for the Quints!" Shouts of anger.

"And who has been caring for their installations?"

The Noghri female, Durga, Uxils, and a few others stood silent but most shouted back to the Shredder as one:

"Nightscream!"


	21. 2-9 Betrayal

AN: Marka Ragnos was a leader of the ancient Sith Empire in the Old Republic. Also Darth Shadow has been training for 130 years. He is supposed to be on par with Darth Sidious.

Cody walked at the head of the company as they walked deeper into the jungle. Their Sith captive had said where his master would meet them, where a stream broke into three tributaries. Cody honestly did not know how far to trust the Sith. Sanjay seemed convinced, and he and Tala had found their prisoner. Had he spoken to him about Muni? Was that why he was so eager to rust him?

Cody looked over his shoulder to Quoreal Rapuung.

"Take the lead for me."

The Yuuzhan Vong warrior nodded, and, saying nothing, stepped in front as Cody walked to the very back of the line to speak to Sanjay.

His fellow human and citizen of Earth was standing next to Tala Doneeta.

Sanjay noticed Cody approaching him and tried to smile.

"Cody."

Cody tried to discuss the matter with a calm and friendly voice.

"Sanjay," he was now walking side by side with him, "You said we should attempt to trust the Sith."

"Well, more like give them a chance," Sanjay said nonchalantly.

Cody nodded.

"I hope this works too, but," Cody took a breath. Sanjay knew what was coming.

"We talked to him before we knocked him down and broke his feet."

Tala tensed. They had not exactly been clear on how they'd subdued their "friend." If Cody found out that they had stolen weapons…

"He said that they wanted to help my son tap into his potential, and that they meant to reunite us. Of course, Tala didn't trust him, and she pushed him down and grabbed some rocks." Tala scowled.

"But the fact the he could have used the Force against us and didn't is more reason to trust him."

Or it could mean he wanted to scope us out to report to his boss, Tala thought.

"I'm trying to keep what you said in mind, but what Mirta and Quoreal said about the Chiss woman…Well, we've got enough people in case I'm wrong." Cody nodded, seemingly satisfied, and walked back to the head of the line.

"You owe me," Tala said.

"I had to think of something." Sanjay replied.

He did, Tala admitted. No one could know of their secrets plans with the Sith to get the boy back. The only way they would really give the boy for what they considered an equal trade, and it wasn't for a low ranked apprentice, it was for Cody's information about the Milky Way and Mirta and Samedi's weapons. She had done many terrible things in her career, but had always justified them to herself. The only thing she really felt bad for was what she had done to Durga the Hutt's father in front of him. That was why she had to save this man's son. And it wasn't like the people they were betraying were innocents. Their leaders had lied about the Quintessons from the very beginning. Nightscream only let go of power when the Sith entered the scene. These people had consistently lied about their ability to leave this planet, so they deserved what they got. The partners in crime were agreed on that. Only for the smallest second did Tala or Sajay consider that their leaders were only acting without Krang's information, and that if they had had it, their actions would have been very different.

They approached the location that Darth Shadow had described, but his captors, not knowing who he was, were surprised when none of the four hooded Sith standing motionlessly there answered Cody Jones's entreaty:"Darth Shadow? We're here to see if you will honor the exchange your apprentice described. We give you him for Muni Patel?"

None of the robed figures answered; instead they all ignited crimson lightsabers. Cody was about to order Samedi, Mirta, and Tala to attack but he noticed that the Sith weren't advancing. They simply stood there, armed.

"Darth Shadow?" Cody asked. "Are any of you Darth Shadow?" The stood motionless.

"Why won't you answer me?" Cody yelled in frustration.

"They won't answer you because they're not Darth Shadow."

The Sith Lord felt Cody's anger as the Milky Way human stomped toward him.

Looking down from a false position of authority he said sternly, "You said Darth Shadow would be here!"

Before his Yautja or Mandalorian guards could do anything, a lightsaber flew from his pocket, activated in mid-air and burned the top of the ropes on his hands. Now free, he grabbed the ignited purple saber.

"Step back," he said to the Yautja and Mandalorian. He sensed indignity from the Vong.

"Don't impugn my honor. I promised you would meet Darth Shadow here and so you have, just now."

That shocked everyone including Sanjay and Tala.

No one interfered as their archnemesis walked to join his underlings.

The tone that came from him was not what any of them from either galaxy expected from a Sith Lord. It sounded more like a shallow egotist.

"So, was anyone impressed with my little act? You completely thought that I was some low ranked underling, when I've been masterminding this whole charade the entire time? But, maybe I'm being a bit too generous toward myself. You are the ones after all who fell for the idea that the Dark Lord of the Sith would actually care more about someone so low ranked than one of the most promising new apprentices he's had in decades. Maybe it's not talent. Maybe you're just stupid."

This art of insulting was actually a strategy Darth Shadow employed frequently. Acting with a laid-back but insulting persona conveyed the idea he was altogether well in the head, which just made him more dangerous.

"You're supposed to be a Falleen," the Mandalorian said.

"The horns and Force powers are from the Zabrak side of my family, but my hereditary titles, criminal connections, my culture, my," he paused, "…pheromones are all Falleen, darling."

Mirta was afraid of what would come after his sexist comment. Falleen pheromones were very hard to resist, and his were enhanced by the Dark Side of the Force.

Shadow felt her fear, hate, outrage, and indignity. He was loving this.

"Relax, love. Strictly business tonight." Shifting the topic lead to him shifting his attention. Now he addressed the group as a whole:

"Right, I received the name Sizhran Savazh when I hatched." Tala felt betrayed, he could tell. He singled her out.

"Yes, Tala, I run Black Sun. That's how I know about you."

Something still wasn't right to the Twi'lek criminal.

"Are my Zabrak horns still confusing you? I can assure you that I'm the head of House Sizhran on Falleen, Prince of the state of Ix, Underlord of Black Sun, and heir general of my great uncle Sizhran Xizor. I've rarely shown my face in public because I'm a half-breed."

Suddenly he felt the group become more anxious, more terrified, by the approach of more of his followers from behind the trees.

"But most relevant, I'm heir to Darth Sidious as Dark Lord of the Sith. Sometimes I was a potential replacement for Vader, sometimes I was his potential apprentice to overthrow the Emperor. I became marginalized when Luke Skywalker came on the scene, but that meant I was not present at Endor where Vader and Sidious met their ends."

All of the people from the Milky Way were confused about the details, but even they could tell that what he was saying was significant.

"Since the Rule of Two had clearly failed, I decided to bring back an older form of the Sith: the Rule of One as there had been in the days of Marka Ragnos. One Dark Lord to rule over an entire Sith order, which I have been building here in the shadows, on my paternal DNA source's homeworld."

That sentence sent more terror into the people from his own galaxy than any reference to Black Sun.

"This is about to get really scary. During one of Uncle Xizor's many rounds with Vader my dear mother acquired DNA from Darth Maul. I came to Dathomir because of its strong connection with the Dark Side. I couldn't find any surviving Nightsister covens as I had hoped, but I was right to try, because the dark energy here…" he smacked his lips and said, "It's so my element. It's secluded, distant, the perfect place to build an order in secret." Enough of his own backstory; the visitors from the Milky Way clearly got that they should be afraid.

"It's even better because we just found out that there is a stable wormhole connecting our galaxies in this system."

He sensed defiance and urgency in Cody as the human, quite bravely, approached him.

"Darth Shadow, Prince Sizhran, there is something you have to know about the wormhole. It's part of—

The Sith cut him off.

"A project by cybernetic beings called 'Quintessons,' and there will be no way for them to prevent the heat death of the universe if our two galaxies meet?"

Cody was surprised. They were all surprised.

"Did you know that this same species sent an individual named Krang here? He's in my custody right now. Clearly the Quintessons themselves are not as concerned as you are."

Suddenly something hit Sanjay.

"You mean, they didn't know?"

Having already established his own threatening presence, Shadow decided to steer the group's attention on one another.

"No, Sanjay, my good friend, they didn't know. But would it have changed things? The deal was I get the Yautja and Mandalorian's weapons, and your leader to interrogate and you get to see your kid."

Before Shadow got to the end of the word "kid," Quoreal Rapuung was already screaming "Traitor!" and running toward the human, only to be halted by a Sith lightsaber.

"We can't use the Force on you, Vong, but lightsabers can still do to you the same thing they do to everything else." Quoreal froze and grunted in frustration. Shadow couldn't read the Vong's feeling's directly, but, obviously, he didn't need to; they were evident in his tone and posture. He soon noted a renewed defiance in Jones.

"Why should we do anything you say?"

"Hmm…I dunno…may because of this!?" Shadow forced everyone except Quoreal to bow to him with the Dark Side of the Force. It felt as though something very heavy had descended onto them and they could only tolerate it on their knees, and even then, just barely.

Quoreal rushed at Shadow only to be stopped by another red blade.

Shadow was now reading all moods correctly.

"Jones, you will come with me. If you do not, well…"

While maintaining his hold over the others, he singled out Tala Doneeta. He squeezed his hand into a fist and she levitated and began choking.

"Shadow, stop! I'll come! Shadow!"'

He ignored Cody until the Twi'lek's lifeless body lay crumpled on the ground. Then, he released everyone.

"The first one was non-negotiable. I need you to see how serious I am, and besides, she betrayed me with Black Sun, and she and Sanjay already betrayed you." The instant he said the elder Patel's name, he saw him put his hands over his head.

"Pathetic. At least believe that you were doing this for your son!" Shadow berated him.

Inside the group everyone now stared at Sanjay. Samedi was locking his triangular shoulder canon sights on him. Cody and Rukh rushed to Sanjay's defense as rain began to fall.

"Stop it! All of you! He was trying to get his son back and thought we were lying about the Quintessons!" Which we were in a way. "He was trying to protect his family! And how could you expect him to trust us at a stage where we couldn't even trust each other!"

Cody's point's registered with Mirta. She had done much worse than lead friends into a trap. She'd killed a fellow veteran in cold-blood.

She screamed for everyone to stop, and stared directly into Shadow's eyes.

"If Cody goes with you and we hand over our weapons will you release Muni?"

"Let's make that the hunter's decision." Shadow stared at the eyes of Samedi's mask. The Yautja knew all too well that compassion complicated matters, and a blaster was a much easier way to ensure a desired outcome.

As Samedi fired a rocket at Shadow, the Dark Lord spun his hand and redirected it at a tree.

The Yautja roared in frustration.

"You still don't see me as the most powerful force here," Shadow said, barely loud enough for them to hear. "One more demonstration." With a diagonal slash of his hand, Sanjay Patel's neck broke.

Samedi was silent. He had killed Sanjay, not Shadow. All of Claudelle's talk about her God and mercy really meant nothing. The one who killed her was dead, and Samedi had finally, after the hunt in Haiti in the 1980s, taken a human as prey.

"I really have to thank you, Predator. I'm a man of my word and I had promised to reunite Patel and his boy, which I really did not want to do, but then you defy me, force my hand, and my problem with Sanjay is solved. But you are surrounded. You may succeed in killing a few of my apprentices, but I'll survive, and your camp will not be safe. All I ask for your security is Cody Jones, the Mandalorian's armor and weapons, and the Yautja's armor and weapons."

Samedi wanted revenge but he knew he couldn't get it in a conventional hunt. He'd have to outthink Shadow, and when he did, he would be the first hunter from the Milky Way to have a Sith's head for a trophy. He removed his shoulder rifle, and his mask and threw them on the ground. He also dropped his spear and shurikens and his wrist-worn control panel. The Sith would not recognize that he still had his extendable wristblades.

Mirta also removed her helmet, jet pack, poorly fitting chest armor and her own gauntlets.

Shadow nodded.

"That's good enough." He motioned for his apprentices to collect the weapons and armor while he narrowed his focus to one individual.

"And now, Cody Jones, it's time to reunite you with Krang."


	22. 2-10 A Maximal Hero

Thirty minutes. According to the base's internal chronometer, that was how long Nightscream had to enter the code. It was an immense burden that the Quintessons had forced on him.

Who was he kidding? He'd forced this burden on himself by leaving Cybertron. Stave off heat death by keeping two galaxies from learning of each other until a Quintesson scientist would one day arrive to tell him that he, and now the community, could go home.

The system had been known to fail before. Damask, a Munn from the Republic, was the operator Nigthscream got here. He had been an instant late in entering the command sequence, and the wormhole had opened long enough for Nightscream's ship to be pulled in.

After the two had learned a way to communicate with each other, he had promptly informed Nightscream that because the Maximal understood the gravity of the situation, he could manage on his own.

The one-time friend had a damaged ship, which he spent some time repairing with Nightscream, and once he was sure Nightscream got how serious the mission was, he'd abandoned him, saying that the Republic would never learn about the Quintessons or Cybertron from him as he wished to forget his entire experience here.

It was a heavy loss to be stranded in an alien galaxy without a single friend and the knowledge that he was probably never go home again, but to be fair, he understood Damask's position. This _was_ his home galaxy and he _did_ have family to get back to, and there _was_ someone to take his place.

The high-road would have been to forgive Damask, as parts of Nightscream almost could, but Nightscream usually went low. He hated Damask more than anyone in his life since Megatron. He never wanted to kill, but the hatred was there all the same.

Twenty-seven minutes.

Why had the Quintessons abandoned this base in the first place? They were practically immortal and had obviously been here before…

Damask had told Nightscream that there had been others before him, but the language barrier prevented him from getting any clear details at the time of that discussion.

How the Quintessons maintained the whole project was a mystery to Nightscream: they were not in this galaxy anymore, but part of the plan depended on this facility being active. There must be an equivalent facility on the Milky Way side, it would have to be on or near Cybertron. The Quintessons had not had a permanent presence on Cybertron for twelve million years.

A secret presence?

Nightscream would be tempted to believe that if not for the fact that it was Damask failing to enter the code on time that got him here.

Nightscream paused.

There was that one evening when he was only a few nanoseconds past the countdown…that fit with the arrival of the ship from the Milky Way…and the collision.

No.

 _No!_

Nightscream refused to accept that he had been responsible for any of this…for a nanosecond, but ultimately, he bowed to the truth. However diligent he'd tried to be, he'd failed and trapped them all.

"This is all your fault!"

Nightscream was shocked out of his guilt to discover that the voice wasn't his conscience, but the Trishreddatron, who had a group of about six angry followers with him. One was a sentient lobster from the planet Thermidor in the Milky Way. Thermidorians were known for immense strength and extremely short tempers.

Nightscream tried to disarm the situation before it progressed any further.

"Yes, there is a very strong possibility that I may have," he paused.

The words "accidentally stranded you here" would only inflame already volatile emotions. Fortunately, Shredder saved him from a choice of words by finishing the sentence, "lied to us about the Quintessons?"

"Say what?"

That was so completely unexpected that Nightscream had no idea how to respond.

"The time that our two galaxies couldn't meet has passed. The Quintessons sent Krang to Cybertron, told him to take the specific ship with the specific departure date!"

"What?!" Nightscream said again still trying to process this.

The Quintessons knew that there would be a specific time when the window would be open? If that were true, then it meant the wormhole had to be opened on the Milky Way side. None of this was his fault at all!

Nightscream seldom smiled in his exile but he did so now. In fact, he laughed.

Shredder narrowed his eyes, while a yellow vein appeared on the Thermidorian's neck.

"Why are you laughing, Maximal? Because you have us exactly where your Quintesson masters want us?"

That brought Nightscream back to the present. Shredder had screamed that all of this was his fault…

"Why do you think I knew anything about the Quintessons instructions to your boss? All I know is what the hologram said to me. But if what you are saying is true, it means there's something I didn't know before! We might not have to stay here!"

Shredder felt it was time to practice one of his Force abilities. He focused on his anger and gripped his four-fingered hand into a vice. Nightscream felt his technorganic trachea constrict.

"You can't lie your way out of this one, Transformer. _You_ insisted we couldn't leave. Now we know we can."

"Why?" Nightscream rasped.

"What?"

This time it was Shredder's turn to be confused.

"You knew Krang this whole time. Why did you wait till now to share?"

Shredder could feel his followers anger…anger at him. The Thermidorian's in particular represented a rare threat to the Triceraton. He had to remind his followers why Nightscream was the public enemy.

"Krang never revealed his secrets to me. I got this information from our recent Sith prisoner. They tortured it out of Krang with the Dark Side of the Force." Shredder recognized there was still a danger that the group might think that the Sith had lied to him. Shredder would have probably thought that too, if not for one thing.

He released his grip and pushed Nightscream to the side.

"I did not mention the Quintessons to the Sith. There droids cant translate Milky Way languages, but he mentioned the Quintessons to me by name. He got that information from Krang!"

After taking a few lungfulls of oxygen, Nightscream felt that he could think much clearer.

"Why didn't you say anything about this to us earlier? If the Quints sent your boss, that might mean we don't have to be trapped here." Nightscream looked at the chronometer. Nineteen minutes.

"If I let the timer reach zero, the systems blocking the wormhole on this side will be down. The Quintessons will have to notice that and open the wormhole from the other side."

Shredder looked at the Chronometer. Its displays were in Quintesson numerals. He couldn't convert Cybertronian time measurements into Earth Standard, but he could recognize the Quintesson numeral for Zero.

"Okay, Nightscream. We wait."

"Thank you," Nightscream said with sarcasm and a hint of anger, before seriously asking, "What made you think I was working for the Quintessons?"

Shredder realized his error and cursed himself for it. He wanted to eliminate Nightscream as a rival leader, and the easiest way to do that was to present him as a Quintesson henchman to a populace that already did not fully trust him or particularly like the news he had given. Giving him a chance to speak was a mistake. The proverbially villagers with pitchforks that Shredder had brought with him were already softening regarding Nightscream. Now Shredder would spin yet another lie.

"The Sith…Krang…mentioned _you!_ Krang said _you_ were waiting for him!" Shredder said with apparently utter conviction. He also tried to project his fear of his plans coming undone onto Nightscream. A scared sentient was easier for his men to see as a guilty sentient.

Nightscream however could not believe what he was hearing, and the emotion he was feeling wasn't fear, but anger.

"You cowardly piece of slag! I get what you're doing, painting me as the villain so you'll have no check on your power. I've got news for you! It won't last long! The others are coming back!"

"The others are probably prisoners of the Sith!"

That caught Nightscream's ears. Shredder had constantly mentioned what he had heard from the Sith. That meant the Sith probably did have Krang. Krang was probably working for the Quints, but Shredder…was he working for the Sith?

"Shredder?" Nightscream asked, this time calmly as a friend, "Are you the only one the Sith told this to?"

Shredder could read the emotions of his followers. They were confused. Shredder had to adapt his act.

"I _know_ the Quintessons sent Krang here, but the Sith didn't mention you until I expressed my frustration with you."

The Triceraton cursed himself again. He now appeared to be too emotional to be a leader. However, it was an easy mistake, and his Force abilities still counted for something. His position was still good, even if weakened from his all-time high. Time for one last farce.

"Nightscream?" Shredder asked in a hesitant, almost apologetic tone, "I know this about Krang, but could I scan you through the Force?"

Nightscream thought this could be another trick, but decided to take a chance.

He nodded.

Shredder opened his hands and closed his eyes.

After a few minutes, he said, "I think you're trustworthy."

Shredder said to his men, "I was wrong about Nightscream," but then, bowing on one knee to the Maximal war hero, he said, "Please believe me about Krang and the Quintessons. I'm not wrong about that. Please let that timer reach zero."

* * *

It was a peaceful sleep cycle for the Quintesson Imperial Arbiter Alðerata: pleasant dreams of the oceans of his race's primordial homeworld, while his internal neural implants were copying his brain patterns into yet another technorganic clone.

Quintessons had little fear of death as each clone awakened with all of its predecessor's recorded memories when the predecessor died. Yes, Alðerata's memories which spanned eons into the past would continue own into an endless future if all his species' machinations went as planned.

Suddenly a piping noise broke its way into Alðerata's dreams.

The mechanical eyes connected to organic nerves on his Face of Death opened, and with the push of a silicon tentacle on to the sleeping tube's red console, the glass retracted,

The Quintesson's supreme leader mentally willed his pink jet motor, which enabled movement for his species, to come on line.

He brought his bulbous mantle and slender tentacles to turn on the beeping holoprojector.

The hologram materialized into a grey domed single-faced Quintesson scientist who still possessed green organic tentacles.

"There had best be a good reason for interrupting me during my sleep cycle."

"Supreme one, the installation on Dathomir has stopped blocking the wormhole!" The scientist said as quickly as he could, but was unable to hide his excitement, excitement which infected the Imperial Arbiter almost immediately on hearing it.

"Our plan has worked! All these years of holographic messengers and disabling ships has paid off."

"The trans-timeline analysis favored sending a gatekeeper from the Milky Way last time. Now when it is the ideal time for our re-entry, the Maximal cracks." The scientist ventured a chuckle. Fortunately, the Imperial Arbiter didn't reprove him. In fact, Alðerata switched from his skull-like Face of Death to his more pleasant Face of Laughter with its flower-shaped orange crown and round cheeks.

"Centuries of gatekeepers, all knowing that they were doing our biding, but _this_ one…" Alðerata chuckled, "Never knew he would be doing our biding by neglecting his duties. He may even have done this to spite us!"

"Even after the Autobots and Decepticons' ancestors drove us of Cybertron, their Maximal and Predacon descendants remain our pawns," the scientist mused.

"And not only our creations, but also all the lesser creatures of the universe. The republic has not yet fully recovered from its war with the Yuuzhan Vong. The time to reestablish our intergalactic empire, the oldest empire, the Quintesson Empire has finally come!"

Book III begins next chapter.


	23. 3-1 Transformer History

AN: I've got the idea that Palpatine was at least partially sociopathic from Stupendous Wave on Youtube and thought it also applied to G1 Megatron. Also, Primus is NOT the voice that told Uxils that there is meaning to life, though he probably listens to the same voice.

 **Dramatis Personae for Book 3**

 **With the Survivors**

Cody Jones (Human male from Earth, originally from _TMNT: Fast Forward_ )

Mirta Rau (Human female from Concord Dawn, OC)

Zed Ram/Trishreddatron (Triceraton male, based on unused "Trishreddatron" concept from _TMNT: Fast Forward)_

Yeyinde/Baron Samedi (Yautja male, OC)

Quoreal Rapuung (Yuuzhan Vong male, warrior caste, OC)

Uxils (Utrom male, OC)

Nightscream (Maximal male, bat, from _Beast Machines_ )

Lwothin (P'w'eck male, OC)

Rukh (Noghri male, husband to Meewal, OC)

Meewal (Noghri female, wife to Rukh, OC)

Durga Besaadi Tai (Hut male, OC)

Shalx (Utrom female, OC)

V'thraw'nyusaya (Chiss female, OC)

 **With the Sith**

Darth Shadow/Sizhran Savazh (Falleen/Zabrak hybrid, Dark Lord of the Sith, OC from my story _Shadows of the Sith_ )

Krang (Utrom male, originally from 1980s _TMNT_ cartoon, prisoner of the Sith)

Muni Patel (Human male from Earth)

Tav Breylia (Bothan Male, namesake from Star Wars Legends, OC)

Sebaste (Fosh female, species from Star Wars Legends, OC)

Veratil (Ti'landa Til male, namesake and species from Star Wars Legends, OC)

Ibsim (Mon Calamari male, OC)

Sizhran Sura (Chiss/Falleen/Zabrak hybrid, daughter to Darth Shadow and V'thraw'nyusaya, OC)

 **With the Quintessons**

Commander Atrilo (Quintesson female, warrior caste)

 **Unaligned**

Primus (Rakata male, Creator of the Transformers, character from Transformers' canon, species from Star Wars legends)

* * *

Cody walked for what seemed like hours blindfolded through the jungle. All along the way he felt a presence reading whatever secrets he wasn't closely guarding. It had to be his new "host," Darth Shadow. Cody didn't fight back. There wasn't anything he could do at this point. Eventually he heard noise.

They were in some kind of settlement!

With Shadow's words, "Take him to my basement," Cody knew that the end of his journey was near.

After entering a house, going down a flight of stairs and being strapped into…

Was this chair _wooden?_

Cody didn't expect a group that could somehow block communications of this part of the planet to have such simple furniture, but he had a feeling that he was in for a good many surprises.

"Okay, Shadow, how about you remove the blindfold?"

"The Dark Lord is not down here yet," A feminine voice answered. Something in her voice reminded him of birds.

"Are you a member of an avian species?" Cody didn't really expect her to answer. She surprised him.

"I'm a Fosh, and we are avian, but there are many species here. We are all Sith. We all have one purpose, the domination of the universe under our order."

Cody chuckled.

"You find that funny?" There was no wound in her voice, only genuine curiosity.

"I don't see this order ruling anybody. Darth Shadow might be a different story, but he said himself there's only one Sith."

The Fosh took several steps around the chair until Cody sensed that she was directly in front of him.

"It takes a Dark Lord to rule a Sith Empire. Thousands of years ago the Sith were not an order but a species, highly Force-sensitive under the rule of one emperor. They met Dark Jedi from the Core Worlds who taught the true nature of the Dark Side. As Force practitioners, the emperors came to be as Dark Lords, a title that survived even after the Sith became extinct as a species and only an order remained."

"Like the Taung on Mandalore?"

"Quite like them in fact."

"But I thought the will of the Sith is to dominate. How can you tolerate taking someone else's orders; someone who doesn't even consider you a possible successor."

"Darth Bane tried to keep the Sith alive like that, but his Rule of Two proved too weak in the end. The last master of that era almost destroyed the Sith."

"Sidious?" Cody asked.

"I'm far more interested in his counterpart from your galaxy: the Utrom, Krang."

Cody laughed. From what he had heard, Sidious had ruled a whole galaxy. Krang, while the head of a vast criminal network had never ruled anywhere, and had many embarrassing defeats.

"Our Krang is not even in the same league as your Sidious."

"But someone else from your history is," Shadow's voice came from behind. Cody felt a chill. The interrogation was about to begin.

He could tell from the movements of their feet that the Fosh was moving behind him while Shadow was taking a seat in a chair directly across from Cody.

"Sebaste, unfold him."

The black band dropped from Cody's eyes. An unfamiliar face greeted him, horned and with black and white tattoos. Wait. The eyes, the symmetry of the face. Not tattoos but face paint.

"What's with your face Shadow?"

"This _is_ my face. You're meeting me as Darth Shadow for the first time. The other face was Sizhran Savazh, though usually I have to hide my horns when I'm him."

Shadow's eyes, with just a hint of yellow, shifted. "Enough about me. You're here to tell me about your galaxy. You are right; Krang is no Sidious. Maybe a Jabba. But you were thinking of someone more like my predecessor. Please tell me."

Cody didn't want Shadow making any plans against the Milky Way, but realized that this information would probably be of no help to the would-be conqueror. He gave it freely.

"Everything I've heard about Sidious suggests he was a sociopath who manipulated on a grand scale. Like the Decepticon leader, Galvatron." Actually, this was more true of Galvatron when he had been Megatron, but it had become to historians' custom to refer to that Decepticon leader by his later name when referring to his life as a whole. It avoided confusion with the later Predacon/Vehicon Megatron.

"Tell me more of this 'Galvatron.'"

A history lesson was definitely not what Cody was expecting. If it kept Shadow away from the contemporary Milky Way, Cody was happy to entertain him.

"Well, he began life as a Decepticon named Megatron. Over a career that spanned four million years, he established Decepticon enclaves throughout the Milky Way, succeeding in conquering the Cybertronian homeworld twice, and repeatedly ensnared bystanders across the galaxy as part of his plans."

"What happened to the Decepticon Emperor?"

Cody smiled. Now Shadow would see why this conversation had been a waste of time.

"He met a giant machine that ate entire planets known as Unicron. Unicron upgraded Megatron's body into a stronger form, Galvatron, but he also installed pain receptors that forced the master manipulator into slavery. Unicron was destroyed, and Galvatron flung to a planet where his head was damaged by plasma baths. The once brilliant leader was now a helpless madman who more than once was a pawn in…" Cody hesitated. If he mentioned the Quintessons it would lead into territory that would be dangerous for Shadow to know.

Suddenly Cody felt a pain in his own head, as Shadow used the Darkside to claw for knowledge.

"Please, continue, young master Jones. I wish to know more about Galvatron and the Quintessons!"

Cody didn't speak but he felt sharp talons scratch open soft neural tissue which hid precious secrets.

Shadow ignored Cody's painful howls, as he calmly said, "Yes the world on the other side of the wormhole was the Quintessons' home. It makes sense really."

The Sith Lord noticed Cody's yelping and released his mental hold.

Cody felt immediate relief; the clawing had stopped. Furthermore, Shadow had taken over the narration. The damage had already been done so there was no reason to keep worrying.

"With his damaged cpu, Galvatron no longer could form schemes as intricate as he used to, and became a pawn in the Quintessons' schemes to regain their lost world. He really is your galaxy's equivalent of Darth Sidious." Shadow smiled about something. Cody knew it had something to do with the way his captor thought he had improved over his former master.

"Sidious knew how to conquer a galaxy but was utterly pathetic at ruling one. Grand Moff Tarkin, Grand Admiral Thrawn, my uncle Xizor, and my teacher, Darth Vader, all acted with virtual independence. Sidious only came back to control events when his rule was most threatened. Ultimately all his actions accomplished were the extinction of all Sith save myself, and provide Supreme Leader Snoke with everything he needed to build the First Order." Shadow snarled in disgust.

"I take it you hated him?" Cody asked.

"Naturally, as he sought a place in the galaxy that was rightfully mine!" Shadow ranted, his chest heaving—but then he relaxed. "No matter, he is dead now, and my order prospered while he occupying the galaxy's attention. Tell me, where the Decepticons as fortunate as my Sith?"

Shadow did not need to use the Force. Cody already felt tense, as this conversation would lead him into the present, and the present of Dathomir's nearest Milky Way neighbor.

Shadow sensed the hesitation.

"Cody, you know that if you don't volunteer the information, I'll have to…" Shadow snapped his long fingers. Sebaste entered Cody's field of vision for the first time. Clad in a black cloak, she gracefully approached her master, a crown of purple feathers behind her head.

"Please bring me some _sru_ ," the Falleen prince asked. The Sith acolyte bowed and hurried away.

"Tea," Shadow translated. "Now where was I? Oh, yes. If you don't volunteer the information, I'll take it from you…painfully." Shadow emphasized the last word. "Holding back won't help your friends, and if the Quintessons are coming here you might want _me_ as a friend. What happened to the Decepticons?"

"The Autobots defeated the Quintessons before. Their Maximal descendants can do the same. Without any help from the Sith." Cody added the last sentence as a defiant after thought.

Shadow didn't let any hint of displeasure show—he merely asked, "Isn't your friend Nightscream a Maximal?"

"Yes shortly after the final battle of Cybertron's Great War where Optimus Prime and Galvatron killed each other, the Autobots and Decepticons signed a treaty. Most of the planet remained in Autobot control but the Decepticons were allowed to live there as well. In a somewhat successful attempt to ease tensions the groups renamed themselves Maximals and Predacons."

"There is more to the story." Shadow had not pried with the Force, he merely intuited this.

"Not all Predecons were happy. Thirty years ago, one named Megatron attempted to end division on his planet once and for all by absorbing all of the sparks on Cybertron into his own body."

"Sparks?" The term was new to Shadow, and he clearly wanted to know more.

Cody knew how dangerous this conversation was getting. The Force could manipulate many things, and unlike some nebulous concept of a soul, Transformers' sparks had documented existence. Sparks were real so they could be manipulated. Cody knew the Dark Lord could pry this information from his mind, so he defiantly jerked his head to a corner faced a wall and closed his eyes. He tried to keep his face calm.

"Oh, Cody," Shadow exhaled with disappointment. "This takes work on my part. Do you think I enjoy that aspect?"

Slowly, Cody felt the talons sink into his brain again. He didn't scream, but it was the worst pain he had ever felt in his entire life. Then, suddenly, it was over. Cody was too exhausted to turn his head, but he didn't need to; Shadow was already talking.

"Curious. you don't believe yourself to have any kind of spiritual essence, but because these machines have something that's been recorded, you fear for how I can manipulate it."

Cody wheezed for a few minutes before gathering enough breath to say, "There is no evidence that people have anything that endures after death. The Transformers have something very special and I will not allow the Sith to rob them of it!" He ended the sentence with such a statement of confidence, naïveté, and arrogance that Shadow couldn't help but chuckle.

" _You_ don't have the ability or the knowledge to protect anyone or anything from the Sith."

Sebaste returned with a small cup filled with a dark green liquid. She carefully placed it on the wooden table between Cody and Shadow.

"Thank you, Sebaste," Shadow replied, and the Fosh quietly retreated away from Cody's perception.

Holding the cup in one hand, and holding another under it, Shadow brought the cup to his mouth, inhaled, and took the smallest sip.

Setting the glass down, he said to Cody, "Tell me one more thing about the Cybertronians: Your friend, Nightscream, was both mechanical and organic. Krang mentioned something about that. What caused the species to change?"

Cody knew that Shadow would just claw the truth out of him if he remained silent, and that the Sith Lord would detect a lie, so he decided to tell the bare minimum of the truth.

"A Maximal, Optimus Primal used an ancient computer called the Oracle to reformat the entire planet of Cybertron from its organic core. I don't know all the details, but it was the only way to free the sparks from Megatron."

"Hmm," Shadow rubbed his chin, "I believe you."

"What?" Cody didn't understand Shadow's comment even meant. He could claw his way back into his mind and—

"I believe that you don't know all the details, so there's no point in torturing you. I have someone else here for that."

Cody swallowed and felt a wave of guilt wash over him. He'd spared himself, but he'd sentenced Krang to an intense round of the same violent clawing that had just violated his inner thoughts.


	24. 3-2 Regrouping

The Sith had taken away their leader. A torrential monsoon had broken over their heads. Nothing could be more fitting, Mirta thought. The torches they had brought with them survived the cloudburst, but the yellow glare felt sickly. The greatest cancer the galaxy had ever known were growing in strength, and know with Cody they were about to infect another galaxy. What hope did Cody have against them, an alien to this galaxy with no Force-ability or mental training to combat them. He was in danger, and they were all in danger. All except Quoreal who the Sith couldn't sense and Samedi—an experienced hunter who she'd notice keep his wrist blades without Darth Shadow noticing.

Things were not as hopeless as it at first seemed to her. Almost immediately as this new hope dawned on her, Lwothin made an untranslatable shriek and pointed upward.

It was there for every to see: purple cosmic dust forming a long arc from a bright sphere.

"The wormhole," Mirta said. The feeling of hope now turned into determination. She looked at Samedi and said "We have to rescue Cody and destroy the Sith, the you can all go home."

The Yautja warrior was being unusually silent. Mirta wondered why, but then remembered that he had lost his mask and translator.

She tapped Samedi on the shoulder, pointed to the sky, and said two of the only English words she knew: "You…home."

The Predator violent shook his head and rasped one word back, "Quintessons!" Jerking Mirta's hand off his shoulder the hunter walked over to Sanjay's dead body, picked up his belt and gradually wound it, knot by knot, around his arm. Then he turned on the translator and pointed to the wormhole.

"Didn't anyone hear what the Sith said? The Quintessons sent Krang here! The wormhole opening isn't a good thing at all. At this moment, there could be an entire cloaked Quintesson fleet ready to enter this galaxy."

Mirta shook her head, "What would the Quintessons want with this galaxy anyway?" Exasperation filled her voice, "They're from your galaxy, not ours. If they come, I doubt they could do much damage. If they're mostly robotic, then they can't use the Force like the Sith, and they are not immune to it like the Yuuzhan Vong."

Samedi sighed, "Not everything is about the Force."

Mirta saw where he had dropped the ball, so she picked it up and ran with it.

"Exactly, we don't have the Force, the Sith do, but we have combat experience that they don't." Mirta walked back and forth, looking every member of her team in the eye. She did not notice how casually she slipped back into her military mindset.

"Quoreal Rapuung, the Sith's blind spot; Rukh Clan Khim'bar, stealth assassin; Lwothin, physical power house; Baron Samedi and Mirta Rau, Taung."

"We rescue Cody!" The Noghri said, accepting Mirta's role as commander.

"For revenge!" The Yuuzhan Vong snarled his consent. Samedi echoed his words with equal rage.

Lwothin alone remained silent. Deeper things troubled him.

* * *

For the rest of the group elation had turned to despair, and for Baron Samedi extreme anxiety had turned to cautious relief. The wormhole had closed again by the time they returned to camp, or, as Mirta was now calling it, "base." They had gone straight to the Quintesson science facility to find out what had happened with the wormhole from Nightscream while wanting to inform Shredder about what had happened to Cody. Fortunately, both individuals happened to be at the Quintesson building.

Upon learning that Shredder had learned of Krang's Quintesson connection during Darth Shadow's stint as their prisoner, Mirta immediately demanded of the Triceraton Ninja Master, "Why didn't you tell us when you first learned this?!"

"Because I didn't know how Cody or Nightscream would react. Neither Krang, the Sith, or the Quintessons are known for their trustworthiness."

"Nor are you, _Craig's butler_!" Samedi hissed.

Nightscream who had not been present for Krang's time among the group simply arched the lines of his face in robot mode.

"I'll explain later," Mirta said, "The important thing now is why has the wormhole closed?"

"I dunno," Nightscream shrugged with a bit of exasperation. He walked over to a clear orb projecting green three dimensional characters in a cylindrical shape surrounding it.

"This says that the station is off. Its whole purpose was to keep the wormhole closed, and if we're right about Krang, the Quints don't want to close things on their end. So…"

"It's probably a natural cycle," Baron Samedi interrupted. His caution had been vindicated.

"How long until it opens again?" Mirta asked with an undue urgency.

"Can't say. If this is natural, we'll probably have to observe it opening and closing a few times before we can work out a timetable."

Mirta stared at the three dimensional Quintesson glyphs. Her eyes narrowed.

"We need them to come. They could make valuable allies considering they know things about this planet that the Sith don't."

Nightscream could believe his ears. He spun around to face Mirta who was too busy staring at the glyphs.

" _Excuse_ me?!" Nightscream said in a voice that got Mirta to face him.

"You are not seriously considering an alliance with the Quintessons?" The Maximal could not believe what hearing.

"Why not? We have a common enemy, and the Quintessons are scientists, so they only—

Nightscream heard nothing past the words _they only_.

"They only created my species to serve as slaves, they only destroyed the ecosystems of hundreds of planets, they only performed sadistic experiments on trillions of individuals. Forgive me for not wanting to work with them."

Mirta was understanding. There was bad blood between a lot of the species in her galaxy, but she'd also seen them work together. She personally had hard feelings against the Vong having had been in actual combat with them, but she could work with Quoreal.

"I'm not denying that they've done your species wrong, but we can work together against a common enemy."

"For most species, I would agree, but the Quintessons aren't most species. Did you know that every individual has memories going back millions of years, and they've been to this galaxy before?" Nightscream asked.

Mirta searched for an appropriate response but could find none. She did however refuse to accept that the Quintessons were a bigger threat a New Sith Order.

"Surely they'll act in their own interest if they're as advanced as everyone says."

"Oh, yes, they'll act in their own interest. Just remember that you're interest and theirs won't always be aligned, if ever." Nightscream turned his back on Mirta and walked out of the facility.

"What a child!" She said, not being able to take in the Maximal's stubbornness. "He doesn't know anything about war."

Shredder glanced at Mirta with wry humor, but Samedi glared with intense anger.

Mirta knew that she'd done something wrong when her second-in-command scowled with disapproval.

"What is it?" She said impatiently.

"That was Nightscream," Samedi said as if no further explanation was need, but he gave one after a brief pause. "He and only six other Maximals rescued every spark on Cybertron from a megalomaniac named Megatron," Samedi paused again, "When he was only a young adolescent by his species' reckoning. He _knows_ war." Another pause, "And we _all_ know the Quintessons." The "we" in that sentence hurt, as the Mandalorian regarded the Yautja as her friend and mentor. Know he was driving home just how alien the other galaxy was. Even Cody, another human, was part of Samedi's "we." That "we" did not include Mirta or anyone from her galaxy.

"'We?'" She said in contempt. "Are you inferring that only people from your galaxy have military experience?" She had deliberately misconstrued the Predator's comments to mean exactly that and her tone reflected the anger that such a statement would naturally fuel.

"I said no such thing!" Now Samedi was roaring back at her. "I said only the people from my galaxy have experience with the Quintessons, which is true!"

Mirta sealed herself off from everything that Samedi was saying.

"Get out! I'm taking you off the mission!"

Samedi was indignant.

"I saved your life! Where do you get the authority to—

"Cody's gone, which means I'm in charge."

Shredder cursed and laughed. "And I thought I was ambitious."

"You get out too!"

Shredder obeyed, but Samedi remained long enough to make one comment that did pierce through Mirta's wall: "You are going to get us all killed."

Only Mirta and Quoreal remained.

Mirta took a seat in what was usually Nightscream's chair, her elbows on her knees and her cheeks in her palms.

"Samedi's right. Without him, we're weakened. I am going to get everybody killed."

"The Yautja has been a nuisance since the beginning, but I think I know of someone who can replace him."

Mirta looked up but didn't say anything.

"Do you remember when we first went into the jungle to discover whether the Sith were really here or not?"

"The Chiss woman?"

"She was once a bounty hunter and she has more reason than any of us to hate the Sith."

Mirta smiled.

* * *

Lwothin stared into the stars of his home galaxy as he stood on the beach this clear night. His home galaxy, but not his homeworld. The constellations on Lwhekk were clear and easy to make out. Still after all his time stranded here, there were no patterns by which to imagine figures in the Dathomiri sky. The one thing that consumed his thoughts was the wormhole. Would it reopen? Did it have a role to play in what Uxils was telling him?

He heard a familiar swooshing as the Utrom's tentacles moved on the sand.

Before cocking his head to see the mollusk the saurian began chirping, and LKD-9D9 translated, "Do you have any new words?"

"No, just vague ideas" the Utrom said slowly, and began starring at the same alien sky. "The camp is becoming too divided over whether the Sith or the Quintessons are our biggest threat, that we are overlooking the fact that we could be the biggest threat on our own. We _are_ here for a reason. I know that much."

Lwothin finally looked at Uxils. "No more words from your God?" LKD-9D9 translated.

"It doesn't always work like that," the Utrom said.

Lwothin lay down on the beach and let out a drone which his droid couldn't translate.

Uxils made the attempt to smile, but almost immediately realized that wouldn't lift his friend's spirits.

"You are more troubled than usual, and that's saying something."

Lwothin snorted and then LKD-9D9 translated his chirps: "I was there when Darth Shadow killed Tala and Sanjay and took Cody prisoner. I went back."

Uxils scrunched his face in confusion.

"Back to Lwhekk, during the revolution. We were trying to help Sanjay and he got killed. We freed the P'w'eck but had to kill more of them than the Ssi-Ruuk. We fail whoever we fight for. It makes me wonder if there is a point to all this fighting."

Uxils looked at his friend with warm eyes.

"The universe is a cruel place and tragedies always happen. I don't know the history of your world but I can tell it's violent. I know all our dealings with the Sith have not been pleasant, but consider this;" Uxils raised a tentacle, "Cody's still alive;" another raised tentacle, "And Muni's still alive."

"Muni?"

"Sanjay's son. The kid you were supposed to be rescuing."

Lwothin's eyes lit up and he raised his head.

"The child still lives, so we haven't failed yet."

"Despair is one of the deadliest enemies of all. It almost killed me," Uxils said.

Lowthin gave a low screech in agreement. "Me too."

Suddenly a purple light exploded in the night sky, spiraling out from a bright yellow center. The wormhole was back! The way for half of them to get home was there!

"Uxils!? Uxils, do you see it?" The jubilant P'w'eck asked his Utrom friend who seemed to staring off into the distance. He blinked, looked at the wormhole and smiled.

"Where were you?" Lwothin asked.

"There was another flash in the distance, down the coast…on the ground."


	25. 3-3 Knowledge and Faith

AN: I'm NOT advocating euthanasia for the elderly in this chapter!

Less importantly, although _Star Wars VIII_ is called _The Last Jedi_ , I don't automatically take it to mean there's no Jedi Order after Luke. If that is the case then some like Rey or a reformed Ben Solo could found a new order, just as I've had Darth Shadow rebuild the Sith.

Uxils, Lwothin, and LKD-9D9 made their way down the beach the following morning. Lwothin, being the only biped, carried Uxils on his back. LKD-9D9 was stored safely on Lwothin's utility belt, the only article of clothing the saurian P'w'eck and Ssi-Ruuk wore.

Uxils had actually began walking forward on his own tentacles, but Lwothin, sensing that they should probably hurry, picked up the slow moving Utrom by sliding his muzzle beneath his friend's tentacles.

"What's the need for speed?" the Utrom asked.

"My master says that the others will be suspicious if we are gone too long, and the cave is a good distance away," LKD-9D9 translated. Lwothin moaned lightly. "He also says that you made the right decision not to tell the others. This would divide the camp even further if they learned that the Quintessons were already here." More groans. "My master asks what exactly you know of them that makes them so dangerous, besides their technology?"

Uxils drew in a deep breath. He had a painful history with the Quintessons but he couldn't hate them. They were God's creatures as much as he-or at least that's how they started out.

"They used to be cephalopods, like the Utrom. At some point, they began using cybernetics to extend their lifespan and created a form of cloning that records brain waves."

"Immortality?"

"Memories that go back millions of years. An artificial immortality. They are probably the unhappiest species in the entire Milky Way."

Lwothin hacked something, which LKD-9D9tried to explain to Uxils but lacked the necessary vocabulary.

The process commonly referred to as "Entechment" was at the core of how the old Ssi-Ruuvi Imperium operated on the edge of the known galaxy. Because Ssi-Ruuk were afraid to die in battle off world, they used machines to fight for them—machines powered by the life force energy of beings they captured. Humans were especially strong, but most donors from the inception of the "art" were P'w'eck, and whatever their species, the consciousness of the enteched being persisted as long as the machine survived. The Newer Order of Jedi who faced enteched battle-droids always reported intense pain from the minds within.

Lwothin made a series of sharp grunts.

"Master, how is that possible? Very well. My master says he has met their kind. Not Quintessons of course, but beings in psychological pain kept alive indefinitely."

They reached the entrance of the cave. Though neither said anything, both were a bit surprised. The entrance wasn't dark, but the light source seemed to be something that emanated from one position outward. Uxils could tell that wasn't Quintesson style.

Lwothin didn't dare to speak, and hope that Uxils would say nothing as well. He stepped inside.

There was a small incline in the cave that led to a torch and a tunnel going further back. Across from the torch there was a single metallic slab with blue-glowing glyphs—glyphs that neither of them could recognize.

"Those aren't Quintesson," Uxils said.

"No," said a male voice from the tunnel. They turned to see someone approaching from the tunnel, but neither could recognize the species; green skin, and a flat face apart from two yellow eyes that bulged out on short thick stalks on either side, naked apart from a loincloth.

"Y-you're not a Quintesson," Uxils stammered in shock.

"No, I'm a Rakaata, and I have been the protector of this wormhole for millions of years. I was here before the Quintessons became the beings you know."

Lwothin honked a question.

"My master wants to know how you have lived so long."

The being softly chuckled. The tone of his next statement revealed his chuckle to be ironic.

"One of the benefits of being the guardian." He had briefly turned his head away from them but now faced them.

"I know why you are here, Uxils and Lwothin."

The fact that he knew both their names shocked them. They tried to ask how he knew this but before they could form coherent sentences, he simply said, "It's part of my role here. My name is Primus."

Uxils had heard that name before.

"The creator of the Cybertronians?"

The Rakaata nodded his head. "I overstepped my authority when I did that. I played God in order to stop the Quintessons and their master, the Chaos Bringer."

Hope swelled in Lwothin that this was the one who had spoken to Uxils The saurian immediately positioned his head to the floor and bucked for Uxils to get off.

"My master wishes to know, are you the one who spoke to Uxils?"

Lines of confusion appeared on Primus' otherwise smooth face. "I don't know what you are referring to."

"Lwothin…" The P'w'eck turned his head toward the Utrom.

"It wasn't him."

Primus eyed the Utrom intently. "What did you hear?"

Uxils took a moment to step back, the first that he had taken sense hearing the voice. He was talking to what he had previously considered a mythological being about a spiritual experience he'd had, when only a few weeks ago, he had been a hardcore nihilist. He actually smiled and chuckled a little.

"I came here addicted to painkillers, because I was depressed with a life that had no meaning. My supply ran out. I went through withdrawals. You may call me crazy, but I believe I heard the Creator of the universe tell me life had a purpose and I had a specific purpose here."

Primus listened to all of this, his smooth face unreadable. Finally, he said, "Why should that make you crazy?"

Uxils back stepped with his tentacles.

"I never said I was crazy, just that it may sound that way."

"You don't sound that way to me. As one who has heard and listened every day for twelve million years, I know a sentient of faith when I see one. I too, believe that there is a Higher Being, to whom we are all accountable. I've seen the Force at work and recognize it as part of nature, but it can't be the same as the same as the Higher Being if it has no will and can be bound to serve whoever can wield it. A system, not a person."

Lwothin snarled something in anger which LKD-9D9 translated as: "My master wishes to know why he should believe either of you."

"There are many good arguments, but none that can't be dissected. Ultimately it isn't about facts. My language has two separate words for knowing a fact and knowing a person. I can't persuade you to believe that there is a Higher Power, or that anything we do has purpose. You always have to make that journey on your own," Primus said with a calmness that ultimately called for a few moments of introspection on Lwothin's part.

There were, however, urgent matters on Primus's part that left him no time to remain speechless.

"Dangerous things have been set in motion. The Chaos Bringer's final plan is still being executed."

Uxils needed no explanation but Lwothin asked through LKD-9D9, "Who is this Chaos Bringer?"

"The Planet-Devourer, Unicron. Though he is dead, his legacy continues."

Uxils quickly returned to the Quintessons.

"You said that Quintessons served Unicron? They are the ones who set things in motion. What is their plan?"

"That is where the New Sith Order comes into play. Once the wormhole is made permanently stable, there is a location on this planet where a Force-user, if strong enough, could harness the natural energies on both sides, and could begin a chain reaction that could amplify their power to permanently alter time."

Lwothin scoffed.

"What is so funny?"

"My master says that there are places in the galaxy with much stronger connections to the Force than Dathomir."

"But we aren't only on Dathomir, we're also on Cybertron," Primus said calmly, "And that world has some of the deepest connections to the Force in any part of the small section of the universe I've personally seen."

That took Uxils by surprise.

"But inorganics don't have a connection to the force."

"The machines the Quintessons built, no. The Sparks made from my midichlorians, yes."

Uxils was shocked for a moment.

"You, Primus, creator of the Cybertronians, are Force-sensitive?"

"The Force is strong in my family," was the Rakaata's only reply. He moved back into his narrative.

"The responsibility of the act, creating beings to serve as weapons in my war with my br—the Chaos Bringer. It weighed on my soul. For decades, I could not eat or sleep. Then the same thing that apparently happened to Uxils, happened to me."

Uxils was about to ask why Primus, an organic, would call a purely mechanical being like Unicron his brother when Lwothin snorted.

"My Master says that you were delirious, both of you."

"I think the term you were looking for is 'broken.'" Uxils says.

Lwothin snarled, and LKD-9D9 faithfully translated, "My master has been broken, tried to find meaning, and only went from one bad outcome to another."

"Sometimes it's not about finding, but being found. And not everyone gets to hear a voice. My friend, there is a difference between knowledge and faith." Primus said. He then turned to Uxils.

"The Sith's greatest strength is also their greatest weakness. They manipulate others' emotion, but are easily manipulated themselves. When the Quintessons arrive, they will first try to permanently stabilize the wormhole at another station on the mainland. It's important that you rescue Muni Patel before then and keep Zed Ram out of Darth Shadow's grasp."

This deeply troubled Uxils. He knew that the Triceraton had one of the most important roles to play here for good or evil. The thought the little human boy could also be the instrument of such evil was even more troubling…and even more realistic. Muni had just lost his father, was being brainwashed by the Sith, and had more reason to want to change the timeline than anyone.

"We've got to make the Sith our priority before the Quintessons get here! We have to rescue Muni!" Uxils said defiantly.

Lwothin snorted. This time it sounded happy.

"My Master believes that we have acquired some useful information here."

Primus noddd, "Indeed you have. And now my friends, I must return to the subterranean part of Cybertron. Things of equal import are happening there."

He turned but barely landed one foot when Uxils asked, "How can you come and go at will?"

Primus looked back and said matter-of-factly, "There is a portal on this Dathomiri island that leads directly to a specific point on Cybertron. As the gatekeeper, I have kept it hidden. You may find it useful later, but remember, keep your friends safe from the Quintessons and the Sith. Both of those paths are the same in the end." Primus walked to the back of the tunnel until he had disappeared.

Lwothin stared at Uxils for` a few minutes, and then back at the direction where Primus had gone, and then back again.

Uxils sensed his friend's anxiety. He extended a tentacle.

"Lwothin? Are you alright?"

Lwothin softly chirped for an extremely long period, longer than Uxils was used to. Finally, Lwothin's trusty droid spoke.

"My master wishes me to speak as though I were him and to reflect his tone." There was a moment of silence and LKD-9D9 said in delicate, somewhat exhausted voice, "Uxils, why is it so easy for you and Primus, but so hard for me?"

"Everyone's different. It was hard for me to believe before I had my breakdown. Didn't you have faith that there was something higher than yourself when we first talked?"

Lwothin moaned thoughtfully.

"Yes…" LKD-9D9 said almost as if a question.

"Then maybe you never needed to hear an audible voice to start believing. You might have stronger faith than you know, stronger than mine, or his," Uxils pointed down the tunnel.

Lwothin thought for a minute longer and decided he would risk believing.


	26. 3-4 Children of the Sith

It had been more than a month since Mirta and Quoreal had walked through this Dathomiri jungle alone. Hours had passed with neither saying a word to the other. On their first expedition, they had questioned each other's relevance on the mission. Now there was quiet, at least to an observer. Mirta's mind however was full of questions about this mysterious Yuuzhan Vong.

On their second night here, he'd accused her of murder. She was, in fact, guilty of one, but not the one Quoreal or his angry mob had accused her of. If it hadn't been for Samedi, the mob would have killed her. Now Samedi, her defender, would not take the Sith as a serious threat, and Quoreal, her would-be killer, was now her closest ally—a Yuuzhan Vong warrior no less. She'd spent the war fighting his kind. Most had retreated from the more heavily explored systems of the galaxy and settled on the sentient world Zonama Sekot.

Mirta had wondered why a Yuuzhan Vong would be in the wider galaxy at all since their first meeting.

She now had to ask him, in the midst of this anxious quiet, "Why are you in this part of the galaxy in the first place?"

Quoreal exhaled in what could be either a cough or an ironic laugh. "My story begins as these stories often do. I was a warrior in love with a shaper. Normally a union between different castes was forbidden, though such things had been approved in the past." Everything he said so far was dispassionate, detached, but emotion, not all sadness, anger, or disappointment—but something containing all three—"When we learned the truth about our origins from Zonama Sekot, the seed of our homeworld Yuuzhan'taar, that our many gods and the castes devoted to each were all our own inventions—it should've meant she and I were free to be together! But she was already dead! The Republic had destroyed her research facility and everyone there!" He turned his head violently away in the opposite direction from Mirta. "It was all some cosmic joke, so I went searching for something in the Galaxy to fill the whole in my heart. And here, on this world," his tone which had started relatively calm turned sad again and his head turned to face Mirta, "I thought I found it."

Mirta knitted her eyebrows.

"Claudelle. There was something about her, and before I could even know if she felt the same way…I lost her before I even had her." Suddenly, he lost the sad tone and look. Anger and determination replaced them. "The Sith took her from me."

Mirta was confused again. She blamed herself for what happened when she ducked but—

"Tala Doneeta pulled the trigger."

Quoreal scoffed.

"She was following you because we had been looking for the Sith. She was a criminal with ties to Black Sun which is run by Darth Shadow's public face, Sizhran Savazh. The Sith are responsible for all the problems on this planet, and most in the galaxy."

Rapuung said this with utter conviction. That was good to Mirta, because the person they were going to had more reason to hate the Sith than anyone else in 130 years.

They made their way to the rundown gray ship with the cracked cockpit glass. Mirta walked in front of Quoreal and around to the rectangular ship's door and banged loudly, calling the Chiss bounty hunter by her family name.

"Thrawn! Thrawn!"

Silence greeted her.

She slowly turned to face Quoreal, with evident disappointment.

"I guess she's not here," Mirta said.

The lines on Quoreal's face grew ever more tense.

"She had better be around here somewhere." His voice was more irritated than anything else.

Mirta stared out into the jungle and called out her target's full name with the top of her lungs.

"V'thraw'nusaya!"

After what seemed like an eternity of waiting a familiar Chiss female stepped out of the bush with a medium sized reptile slung over her shoulders. Oddly enough, she was smiling.

"So, the people who wouldn't believe me before have come back to seek my aide."

Mirta quickly adopted a submissive persona, slightly bowing and saying humbly, "You were right; the Sith are here. We've lost people to them."

"And what would you have me do? I'm only one woman." These words were hard to read. Quoreal could tell she hadn't given up, but she was expecting something to work with. Very well, he would give her that.

"Remember the wormhole?"

Gradually the look on Thrawn's face changed. She had recognized something.

"The purple light that flickers on and off in the sky? So, that is the wormhole you mentioned after all." She had clearly been thinking this since she had first seen it.

Quoreal verified it for her in the next sentence.

"Its creators have left hidden laboratories scattered across this planet that can control it. They come from another galaxy. We know these beings still exist, because certain members of our camp are from their galaxy."

That comment came as real surprise to Thrawn.

"What are you saying?"

Mirta tried to speak, but Quoreal was too quick for her.

"Our ship didn't crash here by itself. The wormhole briefly opened and a ship entered our galaxy from the other side. It collided with ours and that was why we crashed here."

Thrawn looked away as she tried to piece everything that Quoreal was saying together. Finally, she looked back at Quoreal with what looked like hope.

"These beings who made the wormhole…they sent your friends here?"

Quoreal answered before Mirta again.

"They did not think so, but after they became aware of the labs and we found out that one member of our group was sent here by the Quintessons," Quoreal paused for Thrawn to take note of the new species, "the ones who made the Wormhole. They have plans for this world, but right now the Sith are standing in their way."

Thrawn stood silent for a minute, running these things through her head, before saying, "The enemy of my enemy is my friend."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Darth Shadow watched from one end of his Falleen-style garden as his daughter, and intended successor, Sizhran Sura, was parrying the lightsaber blows of his Mon Calamari underling Ibsim. Her movements were the essence of gracefulness: swift, yet subtle. She had only slightly shifted weight on one foot to avoided an incoming diagonal blow to the right side of her smoothly scaled blue head. The Chiss blue skin and red eyes were her most prominent features, though her Falleen scales were present. As was common with females of mixed ancestry, she had no vestigial Zabrak horns. Darth Maul had left her only his Force-ability. With her top-knot ponytail, she was all Falleen and Chiss to the eyes from the lineages of Xizor and Thrawn.

Her left foot positioned behind her, she leaned back, blocking Ibsim's blade with her own. Suddenly, she moved forward and with a Force-push followed by a Force-grab she disarmed the Mon Cal and took his weapon in addition to her own. Holding the two blades like pincers she moved forward. He began scurrying away on his backside and clawing into the ground behind him.

A jolt of force lightening froze him for a moment.

"Ibsim!" Shadow commanded.

The frightened Mon Cal looked to his master.

"Don't ruin my garden in your escape."

The Mon Cal stood, dusted himself off, clasped his hands to beg for his master's pardon, and departed.

The Dark Lord stood and walked toward his daughter. She herself bowed like one of his acolytes, but she was more. Not his daughter, but his apprentice. One day she would be the first Dark Lady of the Sith in nearly a thousand years.

"Your style was impressive…for a novice."

The comment stung.

"What more do you expect? You won't allow me to kill—"

She was silenced with her father's Force choke.

"You could have entered his mind, preyed upon his fears. Why didn't you?" He released the choke.

"I've already demonstrated those skills on Breylia, and he has greater mental discipline than any of your acolytes." Her voice was impatient and angry, but not really hurt. There could be no tender feelings between Sith master and apprentice, nor should there be between Falleen Prince and heir.

"You are not allowed to kill here. Only I can determine when someone is of no further use to us, but you will soon have to kill on Falleen." Sura remained with her knees on the ground as her father began ranting about her half-brothers. "Arban spends all his time in bed with whores, Zika drinking until brain or liver failure. Neither of them can inherit my throne on Falleen, and their Sith training has been entirely wasted!" The rant ended. "Soon, you will leave for the homeworld, cut these gangrenous limbs off our family. Then and only then will I take you for my apprentice and give you your true Sith name."

Sura nodded. Every Sith apprentice had to pass an initiation to be given the title "Darth." Killing her brothers would be hers. They lack self-control, but being, three-quarters Falleen, they had loyal followers. Being Force-users, they were dangerous in and off themselves.

"I accept my trial, Master."

Shadow nodded. He had no doubt Sura would succeed, but his other apprentice worried him. He turned his gaze to the blue-roofed yellow brick building farthest from himself and his daughter.

Veratil was training Muni Patel there. Shadow told his daughter to continue her studies and walked to said building.

Upon his tapping at the wooden doorframe, it slid open to reveal Veratil. This Sith acolyte was a Ti'landa Til, a quadrupedal mammal from Nal Hutta with tough grey skin, a long horn between his eyes, and two cartilaginous hands on his neck. Krang had taken to calling him "Rocksteady" for some reason.

"Master Shadow," he bowed while speaking in a surprisingly high voice for his size.

"How is the boy?"

"Prehaps my master had best see for himself."

Shadow entered the house, and Veratil led him to the spartan living room.

"Muni, get in here!" The Ti'landa Til bellowed. It was time for the good cop bad cop routine.

There was a sound of a door sliding open.

"Yes, Master Veratil," came an extremely annoyed voice as the human boy entered the room. Suddenly he realized the grandmaster of the entire order was here and his knees began to shake.

"What are you doing standing there like some pathetic Hutt larvae? The Dark Lord of the Sith is here!"

Muni was incredibly nervous. He only just now processed the fact and bowed quickly.

"Please forgive my disrespect, Lord Shadow."

The Dark Lord moved slowly and spoke softly to the boy putting an affectionate arm on his shoulder.

"It's quite all right, Veratil. Young Patel is still new here and can't be expected to know all our rules."

This validation from the grandmaster was enough for Muni who smiled in defiance at the Ti'lanada Til. Veratil grimaced back. Shadow read the emotions in Muni…Veratil was doing his job perfectly. Now it was time for Shadow to do his.

"Muni, I promised you that I'd reunite you with your father," Shadow said softly, "I meant that, and wish that I could keep that promise…"

Muni froze and said "No…" His universe had just ended.

"Control yourself, human!" Veratil shouted.

"Control yourself, you ignorant old Ti'landa Til!" Shadow shot back.

Tears were now streaming involuntarily from Muni's eyes.

"We have the man who killed him. We're still interrogating him."

"What are we going to do to him?" Muni asked, wiping away his tears.

"Muni, as your father probably told you, we won't always be there to protect you. We are trying to teach you to protect yourself and those you care about, and when you can't…" Shadow let the sentence hang.

"To avenge them!" Muni finished.

"Exactly," Shadow said, "Even if the guilty is someone you care about. "

"Who is it?" There was hesitation in Muni's voice.

"Remember, Muni, justice cannot allow mercy!" This was the first time that Shadow had spoken to Muni in angry tone.

"Who is it?" Muni demanded. Shadow could feel that Muni would kill but would not think he was doing it from a place of selflessness. The Sith couldn't have that. Shadow decided on a high-risk gamble.

"Cody Jones."

"No…why would…how could he do this?!" Disbelief turned to confusion which turned to anger.

"Because I tried to bring your father here."

Pure hatred radiated from the human boy.

"I want to kill him!"

Shadow smiled.

"And when I'm done with him, so you shall."

Everything was going perfectly with young Patel, but Shadow was finished with his day's agenda. If his daughter passed her trial she would be the One Sith of their native galaxy, but the One Sith should always be the most powerful Dark Side user in a galaxy. There was someone from the Milky Way stronger than Muni. Tonight, Shadow would send a message to the Trishreddatron.


	27. 3-5 Trials of the Heart

Mirta hated being dragged out of bed this early in the morning, but Shredder had supposedly been contacted by Darth Shadow the night before. After being rudely shaken awake by the Triceraton, she had been informed to bring everyone available to the Quintesson science station to go over his plan.

The nerve of him! The more she thought about society in the Milky Way, the more she hated it.

Who did the Triceraton think he was? She was the commanding officer here, and it would be her plans or approval of plans that mattered here. The Triceraton would not tell her though until she brought the entire team together. So, she entered the facility. Quoreal, a blue-skinned mammalian female, Lwothin, and Rukh followed her.

Shredder smiled behind his mask until he noticed no one else was coming.

"Where are Samedi and Nightscream?"

The question riled Mirta.

"Samedi won't accept any of our knowledge on the Sith, and Nightscream has no combat experience—

"Oh, shut up!" Shredder said, causing all eyes to turn to him.

"You are a self-righteous little princess who thinks you know everything. Samedi never questioned anything your group knew about the Sith. _You're_ the ones who didn't accept any of _our_ knowledge about the Quintessons. And Nightscream is a hero of the Spark Wars. Your refusal to see anything past your own galaxy is hurting our own capabilities, and no one appointed you commander anyway!"

Mirta rolled her eyes.

"Did you have me call everyone in here to insult me or do you actually have a plan?"

Shredder began pacing.

"Fortunately, I do. I _have_ learned about your galaxy, and found out that we have the perfect bait which Darth Shadow can't destroy right now. He wants me to be his Sith apprentice and has given me the location of where his cult is hiding."

Everyone felt a chill, and suddenly Shredder was the one holding all of the authority.

"They won't hurt me, and while I keep Darth Shadow busy, you can rescue Cody and Muni."

Suddenly, Mirta saw a flaw.

"You say Shadow gave you this location. He'll have to consider that we'll be coming."

"Of course, he'll expect something like that. Which is why you will wait for a half an hour after we reach the compound. I'll keep Shadow focused on me."

Mirta threw his hands up, "Why would he even care about _you_ that much?"

The Mandalorian had gone too far. Everything in her mind had to revolve around her own nameless galaxy. Shredder lifted his hand, clenched, and released his anger.

Mirta began choking.

Rukh turned pale, while Quoreal shouted, "Shredder, release her!"

"As you wish," the ninja master said, and Mirta bent over coughing. Shredder looked at the entire

"None of you should doubt my talent with the Dark Side, which is why Darth Shadow wants me, the first Sith Lord of the Milky Way. He'll make time for me." He pointed to the Chiss.

"I take it that this is Thrawn? She knows how weak his apprentices are. You should have no problem if I keep the Dark Lord busy."

Thrawn nodded.

"He is right. They are all weaker than him—and vulnerable to surprise."

* * *

The nock came on Shadow's door exactly when he expected it.

"Enter," he said.

Sura, who was not scheduled to leave for several days yet entered and bowed to the floor.

"Father, we have a visitor."

Shadow arched the line above his eye in feigned surprise. "And who might that be?"

Sura made her way inside and a tall armored figure entered.

"Me," the Trishreddatron said.

Shadow smiled a sinister smile and nodded for Surah to close the door.

"Well, well. At last we meet face to face, my young apprentice," Shadow motioned to Shredder's mask and to his own face paint, "And I can clearly see that something is on your mind."

Shredder tensed. What should his next action be…play dumb in the slim hope that Shadow wouldn't piece together what was going on or betray…that self-important piece of Mandalorian trash who had insulted his galaxy over and over? He didn't really care about Cody Jones escaping—Cody's ancestors were the archenemies of the Foot Clan after all. He _did_ have a soft spot for the boy now in Sith captivity, but if they were really training Muni to harness the darkness within him, then this was the best place for him. All he needed was to get rid of the Mandalorian.

"I'm not alone. Several 'friends' of mine are on in the forest on the outskirts of the compound."

"Yes, I know," Shadow's tone grew inquisitive, "Are you contemplating betrayal?"

"Why not?" The Triceraton threw his arms forward, "The Mandalorian deserves it!"

Shadow felt an exposed nerve.

"And why does she deserve it?" He hissed as though he were some kind of predatory animal sinking its teeth into the soft flesh of its prey.

"Why do you care?"

"Your anger is important to your training. Harness it!"

Shredder stared at the floor, then looked up to meet Shadow in the eye.

"She will not take the Quintesson threat seriously, insults a war hero from my galaxy, and treats the Yautja's knowledge of the Quintessons as a disadvantage! She is arrogant and unqualified to lead us!"

"And you want to take her place?"

"Absolutely! I hate her—and Jones too!"

Shadow liked his upper teeth. There was more to this Triceraton's hatred. Most of it came from another being he held prisoner right now. Shadow needed to arrange things to get the best results out of both Shredder and Muni. He turned his head to his daughter.

"Sura, tell Veratil and Ibsim to tighten their guard on Muni and Krang. Tell Sebaste anything you wish, but it is important that Mirta Rau succeeds in rescuing Cody Jones. We don't need Sebaste anymore anyway."

"Yes, Father." Sura clasped her hands and headed out the door. Shredder was confused.

"Calm yourself, my young apprentice. We will get them all eventually. Now they are playing a role in turning young Patel to the Dark Side."

* * *

Thrawn had estimated that it had been half an hour since Shredder entered the Sith compound. "We move now!"

Several people had been moving from building to building, including someone who was obviously half-Chiss, but nothing seemed out of place about these movements—no rush, no panic, then everything seemed to slowly die down naturally. A female Fosh exited one of the houses.

"Rukh!" Thrawn commanded.

The Noghri used his species' natural agility that even a Lasat would envy to quickly climb from tree to tree, from the outskirts to the inside of the un-walled compound, silently landing on the Fosh's back and covering her beak with his arm.

Noghri fortitude kept Rukh from becoming paralyzed or irrational, but that was not to say he didn't feel terror. At any moment, the Sith could call out to her comrades with the Force and that could be the end. Rukh's heart beat faster; his chest grew tighter, fear filled his bloodstream. Calm was his only ally.

Since the Sith had taken his knife, but Thrawn had lent them all weapons including a dagger. Rukh plunged it into the back of her throat as he felt her begin to Force-choke him. Hopefully he'd dispatched before she had sent out a message with the Force.

Rukh fought against every impulse telling him to hurry as he silently drug her body behind him and opened the door to the house she'd exited. He had to be slow to be unheard—for if escape was possible, stealth was his only hope of achieving it.

Rukh took the Fosh's body indoors and shut the door behind him as lightly as possible. He had dragged her slowly so as not to make noise; now he had to be fast. He quickly looked looked around. The room was a long vertical hallway with several doors. Trying all of them, they proved to be dead ends, but there were stairs at the far left of the corridor. Rukh ran down them and full speed and found…

"Cody!"

The human was tied to a wooden chair with ropes. He glanced back, surprised, "Rukh?!"

"Do you know where Muni is?" He asked while cutting the rope with his bloodstained dagger.

"Unfortunately, no, but he's here and so is Krang." Cody stood.

"We have to hurry now and make a new plan. Follow me!"

The Noghri ran rapidly up the stairs, Cody almost tripping to keep pace.

Cody stopped and gasped as he saw Sebaste's dead body in the corridor.

Rukh, not hearing the rhythm of Cody's feet, stopped at the door and turned. He looked Cody in the eye.

"Cody, we have to go!"

Cody nodded and followed the Noghri outside, slamming the door behind them.

Once Rukh heard the door slam, he finally let fear take over and began running.

There were no other buildings between them and the thick jungle, which was where Rukh ran, the relative shortness of his arms compared to his legs the only thing keeping him from going on all fours. Cody struggled to keep pace, but soon they were both behind a dense shroud of trees. Rukh finally stopped and running and checked to see if Cody was still with him. The dark-haired human was panting but there.

"Now we can go slowly."

Within three minutes Rukh exited into a small clearing where Mirta and Thrawn were waiting. Cody exited the bush a few seconds after Rukh, wanting to know who this knew member of their party was but Mirta ran toward him and kissed him on the mouth.

* * *

Shredder listened as Shadow explained the day's events to young Muni Patel. Shredder had not seen this boy in a month, and really, his kidnapping was the only thing Shredder had against the Sith.

The Sith Master and the child were standing just outside the door of one of the buildings, with what looked like a rhinoceros with froglike hands on his neck. Shredder could catch that they were mentioning some Sith whom the people he had led here had killed.

"Cody is really evil…" Muni said disappointedly. It was one of the few things that tugged at the Trishreddatron's heart: the kid was a Milky Way Force-sensitive like himself, who had been bullied, shunned, or exploited because of it. He needed a friend right now.

Shredder removed his mask and walked closer.

"Muni…" he said.

The boy turned, and saw Mr. Craig's butler who'd played Quintesson chess with him.

"Zed!" The little human called out and ran straight to the Triceraton Foot leader who caught him in an embrace.

"Is what they're saying about our friends true?" He asked in Hindi.

"I'm afraid they're not our friends anymore," Zed said in his unique Oklahoma drawled Hindi.

"I'm angry about what they did to my father. He trusted them."

Shredder gently tightened his hug and said, "I trusted them too, but we're here now, with our real friends." It was a lie of course. Shredder knew full well that Shadow had killed Sanjay, but right now the truth would only confuse the boy. Shredder needed to become Shadow's apprentice. When _he_ was the Dark Lord of the Sith, he could dispose of Shadow and take Muni as his apprentice. Until then…

" _I'm_ here."

Muni wiped away a tear and Shredder gently patted him on the back.

Shadow observed his Milky Way acolytes. It was good for now that they had this bond, but it would need to be broken eventually. A Sith having more than one apprentice in one place was inherently dangerous. He had only survived because rock-solid loyalty to Sidious had been drilled into him from almost literally his first day after hatching. Vader could train him, but he was never a realistic candidate for one of Vader's "secret" apprentices.

Neither of the two visitors from the Milky Way had such ingrained loyalty to himself. He'd have to break them up. Fortunately, they both still only had limited control of their powers. Since Shredder was the more naturally gifted, he was the one Shadow wanted to keep, unless events changed.

"Zed!" Shadow called to Shredder by his real name, since Muni knew nothing of his leadership of the Foot Clan.

Shredder let go of Muni and stood up.

"With the threats, we are under, your training must begin now."

Putting his mask back on he followed the Falleen-Zabrak hybrid to his own house where the Chiss-hybrid daughter opened and closed the door for them.

"Your betrayal of your friends today was admirable, for a novice."

Shredder flared his nostrils. "You could have killed them all! You're the one who let them kill one of us—" Shredder felt his breath being ripped away.

Shadow spun around and shouted at him, "Never insult your master! Everything proceeded according to my plans." He released Shredder who bent over and began panting.

"You did what you did because you were _angry_ with Mirta Rau. To tap into your true potential, you must enter a state of pure _hatred_ , and there is only one being on this planet you truly hate."

Shadow walked to indistinct part of the tan wall, between two wooden beams like so many other section of the wall, and pushed.

Suddenly the whole section rose into a slot in the sealing.

"What do you want now, Shadow?" An irritated, elderly, and far too familiar voice called.

Shadow faced Shredder and stood still.

"Go in and face your true hatred."

Shredder felt something more penetrating than hatred. He was frozen.

"How can you ever hope to be Dark Lord of the Sith if you cannot even rid yourself of a useless old Utrom?"

Suddenly, Krang began cackling from the other room.

"Are you here, Shredder?! Oh, this is just so…pathetic! You want _him_ to be your apprentice? I overestimated you. You're an idiot Shadow!"

Krang was right, and whatever Shadow may think, Shredder knew the truth. No matter how much he hated him, Zed Ram was too scared to kill Krang.


	28. 3-6 Welcome, Our Cephalopod Overlords!

The morning that Shredder led Mirta, Thrawn, and Rukh into the jungle, events at the beach were far from quiet.

LKD-9D9 had just finished relaying Lwothin's report of the morning's "briefing" to Uxils, Shalx, Durga, and, most importantly, Nightscream.

Lwothin and Uxils had tried to remain close to the Maximal ever since their meeting with Primus. The Quintessons and the Sith both had major roles to play on this world as part of Unicron's grand scheme, and it seemed now that beyond a doubt that Zed Ram was the individual who would bring Unicron's desires to fruition. Lwothin, Uxils, and LK alone knew of Unicron's plot and were unsure how serious even Nightscream would take the claim that they had spoken to Primus. Still, Lwothin stressed the danger of Shredder as a Sith apptrentice.

Lwothin desperately trilled something that his droid rendered as "My Master says that you can allow them to go alone, Master Nightscream!"

The Maximal, now in beast mode, simply folded his wings and said, "And how am I to stop them? Mirta has complete control over the group and zero respect for me."

Uxils ventured forth, "No, Mirta had that authority. Now Shredder does, and one of the chief reasons he doesn't respect her is that she refuses to respect you. If anyone can break through to him before Shadow sinks his claws into him, you can."

Nightscream blinked, and then nodded. He wouldn't make the same mistake as Mirta about underestimating the threat he was less familiar with. The possibility of a "Darth" Shredder was not something to take lightly. Still, he was amazed by how much influence Cody and Shredder both seemed to give him. He'd been an adolescent during the Spark Wars; he'd fought but the real hero had been Optimus.

He started to take flight when he noticed a small oval shaped craft begin to descend on thrusters. Soon, everyone had followed his eyeline.

The object was totally silent so no one had noticed it until they could see it.

It continued its descent until it came to rest a few yards down the beach.

Suddenly, Shredder was forgotten. They had a more pressing matter. Everyone was thinking the same thing, but only when the one-person hatch was opened did those thoughts become reality for Nightscream, Uxils, and Shalx, for no one else there had seen a Quintesson before.

The being, with its long head and organic green tentacles coming out from the robotic body's shoulders, was a member of the Quintesson Warrior caste.

It inclined its purple jet-motor and bowed, striking one "shoulder" with a tentacle. Then it spoke…with a feminine voice.

"I am Commander Atrilo. On behalf of the Quintesson Empire and the United Planetary Government of Cybertron, we have come here to rescue you." She sliced through each of them with artificial eyes until she found the bat Maximal. She approached saying, "You must be Nightscream. Cheetor Prime himself wanted us to determine if you were alive."

Suddenly the reality of all this hit Nightscream. He staggered back unable to process what was going on. Cybertronians and Quintessons working together in an era after Galvatron?!

"The message…if the two galaxies met…heat death…" Nightscream choked not being able to reconcile what he had known for so long with what he was hearing.

"Oh, that. An ancient warning about a theory that proved incorrect. There's no danger here," She said with full confidence that only confused everyone further.

Nightscream brought Atrilo to the main camp where Quoreal was sitting on medium sized rock from whence he could see most of the camp. Upon seeing a creature so similar to the one from the hologram in person, Quoreal jolted up in shock, and started walking to it even as the Quintesson and Nightscream walked toward him.

"Greetings, Quoreal Rapuung. I am Commander Atrilo of the Quintessson Empire." Atrilo struck her shoulder with a tentacle. "It has been a long time since our two species have met."

That comment haunted Quoreal. According to Zonama Sekot, the Yuuzhan Vong had developed their warrior ways and their loathing of inorganic technology because of a lengthy war with technologically advanced Cyborgs…was this the encounter the Quintesson was referring to? Immediately his mind was thrown back to the present.

"Why did you send Krang to this galaxy?"

He expected feigned confusion or an outright refutable lie.

Instead she said, "A corrupt magistrate wanted to extend his influence into this galaxy, in particular he wanted to influence an order of Force-users. He informed Krang which ship to board and opened the wormhole from the Milky Way side." Seeing Quoreal contort his face in worry, she quickly added, "The warnings about heat death were based on a theory our scientists had later proven incorrect. By that time, we had already pulled out of the galaxy, and thought 'Why not leave the warning in place?' It kept dangerous factions in this galaxy such as the Rakaata out of the Milky Way, and it kept the World Devourer Unicron out of this galaxy. The portal on this side remained closed until very recently." She looked at Nightscream.

Nightscream wanted to believe everything she was saying was true, but with her being a Quintesson, that race who never reproduced naturally anymore, who never had new minds to replace the old, meant that he couldn't trust her, not after everything they had done to Cybertron in the past.

"You said that Cheetor Prime personally wanted to speak with me? Can you reach him or Ratrap, or Botanica or—" Nightscream had not parted on the best terms with the eagle Maximal Silverbolt and even speaking to Silverbolt's wife, Blackarachnia, would lead to inevitable conflict. That conflict could only be resolved on Cybertron in person. But the question about the Quintessons needed to be settled now.

Before Nightscream could finish his thought, Atrilo broke into his pause.

"I'm afraid that someone here has set up a communications jam within a 100-kilometer radius. Quintessons use frequencies that no one here can jam, but Cybertronian technology is just not up to the task. You would need to fly to the mainland with a communications device, or better still come to our ship. And the Wormhole would need to be open." Suddenly Nightscream felt very depressed, and very suspicious.

Quoreal let Atrilo introduce herself and the Quintesson Empire to the citizens of the Republic, present there while he sought out his rival. He found Samedi practicing Yautja martial arts behind the same waterfall where Claudelle had once tried to kill him because of what he had done to her ancestor, but then chose to forgive him.

Claudelle…

Quoreal brought his mind back to the present and called to the Predator.

Samedi emerged from the waterfall.

"What do you want?" Quoreal was Mirta's second-in-command. She had basically declared all knowledge of the Milky Way Galaxy totally useless.

"There is a Quintesson in the camp," Quoreal said flatly.

Samedi flared his mandibles. "And Mirta is already discussing how to defeat the Sith with Quintesson help!"

"Mirta isn't here. Shredder took her, Rukh, and our Chiss ally to the Sith Compound."

Samedi stepped backward with one foot quivered his lower left mandible.

"Shredder knew where the Sith were?"

"Darth Shadow spoke to him through the Force."

"Paya!" Samedi cursed. "One idiot trusts the cyborgs, another the cultists!" Samedi then paused. "Why did you come to me?"

Standing resolute without moving, Quoreal said, "I'm not Mirta. The Quintessons have already said that Krang was sent here by one corrupt judge. The message about heat death was based on a theory that has been discarded. Everything fit smoothly," Quoreal took a half-step forward, "Too smoothly."

Samedi nodded. Everything was just to coincidental for the Quintessons to not have sent them here.

"Too smoothly, indeed," Samedi said. He began marching off in the direction of camp.

Quoreal hurried after him.

"Samedi, wait! We need a plan!"

Samedi paused, and quickly turned upon realizing that, "You've already given me one. We confront him with the inconsistencies between what he said and what we actually know about the situation."

"The Quintesson isn't a 'he,'" Qoureal said as he stepped up his pace to keep on track with the Yautja.

"A female Quintesson? They're rarely seen, but maybe that's because all their cybernetic forms look the same."

The fact that the Quintessons used cybernetics to extend seemed to Quoreal to be an inverse but related practice to the Yuuzhan Vong's using biological implants or grafted organs to reflect increased rank. The inverse yet similar practices stood out even more when he remembered the round head and different tentacle assortment on the scientist. He knew that the Quintessons had different castes, which was yet another similarity they shared with pre-reform Yuuzhan Vong. His race had adopted all the traditions that had made them so feared by the Republic long ago after a war which they fought with a cybernetic race in their home in another galaxy. He also knew the Quintessons had brought ancient Yautja who founded Mandalorian culture to this galaxy. The fact that identical Humans existed into separate galaxies was also probably the Quintessons' work. And if the Quintessons really transferred their minds into clones after death—there was definitely more going on here than the commander let on.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Nightscream was not interested in the chaos when a Vong and a Yautja confronted a Quintesson. Quoreal and Samedi kept the argument going well into the evening but by that point Nightscream had gone, having borrowed one of the Milky Way humans' communicators. If their estimations were right the wormhole should be open in a few hours, and it would only take him one hour to get past the Sith's jamming radius on the mainland.

He finally landed on what was, to him, a new continent, or at least a much larger island, and he was careful to land in an area of undulating grassy hills, well past the coast line. The Sith shouldn't give him any trouble here.

He gazed up at the sky. It was getting dark. He wouldn't have to wait long. It now occurred to Nightscream that he did not know exactly who he should contact. It obviously couldn't be her or either of her parents—Cheetor Prime could get the most done, but out of the available people on his list he was closest to Ratrap. Having decided upon his rodent mentor, all he had to do was wait. Soon enough, the purple of the Dathomiri/Cybertronian Wormhole exploded on to the night sky.

Nightscream transformed to robot-mode where he could actually manipulate the communicators controls with five digits. He entered the frequency needed to contact Ratrap now that the wormhole could send his frequency back to the Milky Way. He was finally going home—they all were—and then he heard the most spark-crushing sound. The communicator responded, "Signal jammed," repeating itself as the red words flashed in English in the place of his friend's holo-image.

"Slag!" Nightscream yelled angrily as he almost threw the communicator into a rock before remembering it was someone else's property.

Laying the device down gently, the Maximal got down on his knees, looked at the wormhole and released a sonic scream in its direction. This same ability had beat Megatron twice. The wormhole was too far away to be affected. Nightscream didn't care. He was angry with this unthinking, unfeeling product of Quintesson science. He was so angry that he did not notice the tears streaming from his eyes. He was obviously sad. He'd tried to contact his home and had failed miserably. This was the first time the Sith Order had ever done anything to him personally. His sadness and anger fused into hatred. Mirta had been right: he had underestimated the Sith, Their jamming network extended further than just their island base. The whole planet could be covered for all that Nightscream knew. Only the Quintessons could communicate off-world and they could not be trusted any more than Unicron could be thrown. They alone could communicate off-world and that made them their masters once again.


	29. 3-7 Reason, Emotion, and Faith

Cody and Mirta both tried to put the kiss behind them. It was something that was the spur of the moment, brought on by a burst of emotions, at least that's what they told themselves and each other. The fact was, however, that they had bonded in some kind of way the very first day that their ships had crashed here. He had tried to defend her when Qoureal accused her of murder, though he was shaken in his confidence in her before Samedi showed up. Still when the camps had been divided she had been the first person he'd gone to in Samedi's camp. He also knew that she was very supportive of him when Nightscream handed power back to him. Still, all of this could have been the result of simply seeing each other as allies, the way she did with Samedi. What he could not deny was that he thought she was beautiful, but that didn't necessarily mean he felt anything…but he did. If she wasn't a criminal on Concord Dawn, he could actually see a future with her, but then she belonged in the Republic and he belonged in the Milky Way. Even if their ancestors were from the same galaxy, they themselves belonged to two different ones.

Cody was quickly filled in on all that had happened while he was gone. The wormhole opened cyclically, and the Chiss bounty hunter had joined their group. Apparently, she was related to a famous admiral in the Galactic Civil War. Cody had mentioned that her daughter was a powerful Sith acolyte, but this Chiss's response had been heartless.

"She is Sizhran's daughter. He used his Falleen pheromones and the Dark Side to rape me. I never had the chance to be her mother. All she knows is his world, and because of that she must be destroyed!"

Even Mirta, the ultimate Sith-hater, thought Thrawn went too far.

"You don't want her to turn to the Light Side?"

"She has been trained in the Dark Side since birth. None of those Dark Side users who came back were born in darkness!"

"You can't kill your own daughter!" Cody interjected.

Before Thrawn could answer, Rukh, Cody's rescuer, spoke for her.

"Yes, she can. She is her mother. You have no right to stop her."

Cody looked puzzled. Rukh was someone who had risked his life multiple times in their cause to help Muni and Cody himself.

"I thought you were a being of honor, Rukh."

"Noghri honor, not human honor."

"There should be no difference!" Cody shouted when he suddenly remembered his own words to Uxils: _Morals come from society._ It was the only answer to Uxils's superstitious belief that there was some supreme being who ordained morality.

"Are you saying that Chiss and Noghri should adopt human ways?!" Rukh had shouted back.

"No! It's just morality based on reason…"

"You are arguing from empathy," Thrawn said. "Reason says we should kill her."

Mirta put her hands on her forehead. Thrawn was right about reason but why shouldn't empathy count?

* * *

Evening and night had passed with unresolved tensions about romance between Cody and Mirta and the morality of eliminating Sizhran Sura. Early in the day they had made it back to the camp to find it divided once more. Most of the beings from the Milky Way, along with Quoreal and Durga were on one side of the beach under Samedi's leadership. Most of the rest were on the other side behind…a Quintesson warrior?!

The Quintesson swiveled on its jet motor and looked at Cody.

"Greetings, Mr. Jones. I'm Commander Atrilo of the Quintesson military. My government, in cooperation with the United Planetary Government of Cybertron has sent my ship to rescue you."

Cody stared at her for a moment, trying to piece together everything he knew about the Quintesson presence on Dathomir with what she had just said.

"You had installations here, and warned if the two galaxies became aware of each other you wouldn't be able to prevent heat death of the universe."

"We've already solved that problem," Atrilo threw her uppermost tentacles up in…was that mock relief or genuine relief…she was harder to read than the Sith he'd just been rescued from.

"Remember, Cody," Samedi said, causing the camp's leader to look toward the Yautja, "They sent Krang here."

That was right.

Cody boldly stepped forward, "I was a captive of the Sith, and Krang still is. _They_ know you sent him!"

Atrilo hesitated—again Cody couldn't tell if it was genuine or a bluff.

"The Sith are a Force-sensitive cult? Yes? One of our judges did send Krang here, but he has been indicted for corruption."

A Quintesson judge indicted for _corruption_? That was hard for Cody to believe, but Mirta was eager to find a reason to trust. Hope beamed from her face.

"That means they aren't all alike, Cody. We can trust her, get rid of the Sith, and all of us get back to our homes."

Cody knew that once, when the Quintessons had control of Cybertron they had dealt with corrupt individuals (by their standards) by banishing them to alternate dimensions, but that was always when they were deemed a threat to the Quintesson race's overall plans. That could've happened with Krang. Should they—

"We should trust her," a bat Maximal in beast-mode landed on the beach between Cody and Atrilo, "At least for now. The Sith are the bigger threat."

This was what Mirta had been saying all along, but it was coming from Nightscream, a Cybertronian, who had more reason to distrust the Quintessons than anyone there.

"I flew to the mainland last night, outside what we thought was the Sith's jamming radius while the wormhole was open, tried to contact Cybertron, and my signal was still blocked. The Sith's network is bigger than this island. It may even cover the whole planet! Quintesson frequencies are unaffected, so for the time being, Atrilo contacting her ship is the only way to get messages off the planet."

Uxils looked at Lwothin who glanced back at him. They both realized what a dangerous situation this was. Shalx saw the look on Uxils's face and realized that something was seriously wrong.

* * *

Lwothin and Uxils had walked to the clearing just inside the jungle from the camp. Everything that Primus had said was playing out before their eyes. The Sith had both Shredder and Muni, and the Quintessons controlled all of their groups communications off planet. Likely, the Quintessons would soon be talking to the Sith as well. Then everything would be in place to enact Unicron's final plan.

"We have to find where the Sith are jamming our communications and destroy it," Uxils said.

Lwothin snarled and whistled which LKD-9D9 translated as, "My master agrees but says that that's easier said than done."

Uxils grimaced. "Right, we don't even know where to start looking."

A twig snapped, and Uxils and Lwothin both turned.

It was Shalx.

"Shalx?" Uxils asked nervously. He liked her, but ever since his spiritual awakening, she'd thought he was crazy. He then noticed that her baby was gone.

"Where's Shlizet?"

"She's with Durga. The bellows of a breathing Hutt actually help her sleep. They're both napping."

Uxils tried to think of something to say, but couldn't think of anything before Shalx said, "I think it's heroic what you're doing."

Uxils turned from a shade of pink to purple as he tried to think of what she meant.

Shalx giggled and touched his face with her tentacle.

"None of us from the Milky Way trust the Quintessons. It's scary having to rely on them for our only communication off world. If you can blow up the Sith jamming network, or at least part of it, we could contact home ourselves. You willing to risk everything like that to help us…that's what heroes do."

Uxils felt his main heart flutter. The girl that he liked was finally feeling the same way.

"And to think, it doesn't have anything to with religion this time." She said.

Uxils froze. It didn't have to do with religion, but it did have to do with God.

"Shalx, this still goes back to what happened on the beach. That Voice that gave me purpose said—"

He didn't get to finish. Shalx stepped backward.

"So, this is still about some fantasy being that gives you images when you sleep? I thought you actually cared about this community!"

"I do, but don't you understand, the universe is not going to last forever. Whatever meaning we give ourselves ends when we die, and whatever meaning those who come after us gives us ends when they die. That was why I was so miserable that I was addicted to pain-killers before!"

All the points that he made bounced off the emotional wall she built around herself.

"You mean our feelings aren't valid unless they've been pre-programmed like robots! You're as bad as the Quintessons!"

Uxils felt a tear trickle. He'd never said feelings weren't valid, just that they weren't eternal.

* * *

Durga the Hutt came to his senses when a tentacle, forceful and gentle at the same time, tapped repeatedly at his tail.

"Ugh.." he mumbled as slowly opened his eyes. He registered the beach in front of him, and tried to piece things together. Another tap on his tail led him to turn his massive head. Shalx was there—she must be here for the baby resting on his tail's tip. Only now, a few minutes after his resonant snoring stopped, did the baby Utrom awake. It immediately began crying only to be shushed as its mother took it back into her tentacles. The cries turned into "oohs".

"Thank you for looking after Shlizet," Shalx said.

"It's no problem. No one yells around her, so win-win."

Shalx smiled.

"I think you are the only person here who isn't crazy."

Durga winced. He had seen his own father killed before his eyes, and may have inadvertently sent the woman who killed him on suicide quest in search of redemption.

"I don't know. I may have gotten Tala killed."

Shalx was confused by that comment.

"I thought that was the Sith."

"I kind of said something to her before she started hanging out with Sanjay."

Shalx was confused.

"Why would you say anything to her? You didn't know her."

Durga shook his head, "Actually I did." He saw that Shalx's interest was only piqued further.

"My dad was a crime boss, head of the Besadii Kajidic. Tala was briefly one of his employees."

Shalx mouth hung open. " _You_ …don't seem like a criminal."

"I'm kind of the black bantha of the family."

Shalx did some quick thinking which she immediately put into words, "So you were trying to lead her out of crime. I'd say that's good."

Durga shook his head, "No, I yelled at her for…" he paused. Should he go further? "For being a monster."

Shalx was confused once again, "She couldn't have been more of a monster than your dad."

Durga remained silent. He looked away.

"Durga, what's wrong?"

Durga truly wasn't fit for life in the gangster culture that Hutt society had become. He couldn't lie to save his life.

Reluctantly, he turned his head back to Shalx.

"She killed my father in front of me."

He waited for Shalx's response. It was surprisingly calm.

"Durga, you had a right to be angry. You can't blame yourself if she was really trying to redeem herself."

Durga actually felt better for the first time since Tala's death. Maybe just maybe…

"Do you think she's in a better place now?"

"No, but she may have become a better person."

That was partially comforting, but it exposed another raw nerve.

"You think there's nothing after?"

Shalx drew her baby back, with defensive tentacles.

"There's only right now, following you dreams no matter what's in the way, and being happy," she said in response to something her parents had once told her.

"Funny. Except for the 'only now' part, my dad said exactly the same thing."


	30. 3-8 True Bravery and True Cowardice

"I'm waiting for you, Shredder," Krang sneered in Darth Shadow's secret room. "Go on, prove that you are the Sith apprentice Shadow is looking for."

"Don't make this more painful than it needs to be, Krang," Shadow said.

Krang laughed wildly.

"Please, Shadow, you're wasting your time! Oroku Saki was too hard to control, so I've personally broken every Shredder since. Oh, he wants to kill me, but He can't."

"Shut up!" Shredder yelled at Krang before directing a Force choke…at Darth Shadow.

Shadow waved his hands, and freed himself from Shredder's grip, more curios than angry.

"Why attack me?"

"I'm sorry, sensei," Shredder said, before Shadow performed a Force Choke on him. Shredder sank to his knees.

"Real Sith don't apologize." He released the hold and Shredder inhaled deeply. "Now, answer my question!" He said forcefully.

"You dolt," Krang answered, "He can't hurt me because I've had mental conditioners put a key word in his subconscious."

Shredder was confused, as this was the first he'd ever heard of it. Shadow noted the look in Shredder's eyes and returned his gaze to Krang.

Krang held a tentacle up, "Don't try to extract memories, because I don't know what they key word was. I never do. And the Shredders never remember after the procedure is performed."

The Triceraton roared in anger, but the Sith Lord grew contemplative.

"Hmm," he said, smirking as he adopted a seated cross-legged position on the floor.

Shredder looked at him.

"Sensei?"

"I could probe your mind and remove the programing, but I think I want you to keep it for this assignment."

"Sensei?" Shredder incredulously asked as Krang roared with laughter.

"You're setting him up for failure!"

"Not at all. A Sith Lord must not only be strong in the Force—he or she must be a master manipulator. Lord Sidious had a marvelous ability to make you think that his plans would benefit you no matter what they were. However, my great uncle Xizor, who was neither Force sensitive nor a Sith, was even better. He could get you on board with his schemes and make you think that they were your idea in the first place."

Shredder teared his gaze away from Krang to contemplate what his Sensei had just said. His first test had nothing to do with the Force but manipulation.

Then Shadow said, seemingly randomly, "My daughter Sura must prove herself against my strongest acolyte, Tav Brei'lya, who controls our communications jamming system on a smaller island twenty kilometers off our southern coast. She thinks her task is to challenge my idiot sons, but she must clear with the Bothan before she leaves the planet. His orders are to kill her. Whoever wins, becomes my apprentice in this galaxy."

This information seemed completely irrelevant to anything Shadow had to say about Krang or Shredder. His next words were more to point and equally confusing.

"Shredder, take Krang and go."

Shredder felt his heart sink into his stomach as Krang began laughing.

"The Sith have given up on you, Shredder. I'm still your Sensei, for the rest of your miserable life."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Krang was a very happy Utrom indeed to be free of that Sith prison at last. Shadow had been sadistic enough to give Shredder a blue triangular shaped cage in which to haul Krang as parting gift, but the Sith had failed there too. Krang found it quite comfortable. A devlish smirk appeared on Krang's mouth. The Sith had failed to break him, Dathomir had failed to break him, and soon the Quintessons would be here. Doubtlessly, they would bring Krang home for his role in helping them get here. Once the wormhole was secure, he could turn toward extending the Foot's criminal reach into Republic Space. He was already concocting ways to profit from the unending conflict between the Besaadi and Desilejic Hutt Kajidics. Darth Shadow was a fool to let him go. Everyone who underestimated Krang was eventually sorry. Krang was about to begin to laugh, when unexpectedly Shredder began laughing.

"What is wrong with you, idiot? I'm still your boss and you can't kill me."

"I don't need to. This is the lesson that Shadow-sensei was trying to teach me. My manipulation skills need work."

"Oh, you think?" Krang said sarcastically.

"Casting me out, with you, feeding me that seemingly unrelated tidbit about the guy who's jamming communications…he wants me to bait someone back at camp with this information…and I know just who to talk to."

Krang shuddered. There was only one being at the camp who hated Krang more than Shredder did—that Yautja with the Voodoo name. But Shredder was overreaching, as usual.

"I thought you were supposed to make him think it's his idea. 'Oh, Predator-guy, here's your nemesis, please kill him.' Like that's going to work. You betrayed your group to the Sith, so he's going to be suspicious about anything you say. He'll certainly want to kill me but he'll see his vengeance as part of a Sith plot, one which you are not the author of, by the way."

Shredder scowled. He hated every word that came out of the Utrom's mouth.

"I know its Shadow's plan, but how I convince Samedi is for me to decide."

"Oh," Krang laughed, "Like you actually have the intelligence to manipulate someone."

Shredder, or rather, Zed Ram, felt the bitterness in that remark. Triceratons, largely due to the fact that most were so muscular had the reputation of being strong but dumb. Zed was scrawny compared to most of his species, but because his parents had chosen to immigrate to the part of Earth's North America known as Oklahoma, he had acquired a "cowboy" accent growing up, which even he thought sounded dumb.

"I'll admit, I don't sound particularly intelligent when I talk, but I doubt our minions back at HQ in New York sound any smarter."

"No, but you still have to compare yourself with fellow inferiors. And all Triceratons are dumb anyway."

Zed shrugged. It would be a waste of time to talk about all the breathing equipment, germ warfare, and combat technology that the Triceraton Republic had developed, but he'd still show Krang. No should ever underestimate a determined Triceraton.

Samedi quietly stalked one of the two-meter long frilled lizards that roamed the jungle when he realized that he himself was being hunted. Extending his wristblades, he spun, ready to catch whatever Sith was stalking him off guard—and he made out Shredder's shape?! There were a few meters between them and neither had the element of surprise. Shredder had defected to the Sith, so what kind of mission was he on?

"You may have the Force, but you are untrained, Shredder, and I am a seasoned Hunter."

"Oh no!" A familiar and hateful voice gulped. "Not him! Not him!"

"Oh, shut up, Krang!" The Triceraton said looking over his shoulder.

Krang was obviously now free…and had Shredder defected solely for the purposes of rescuing his master?

"Did you rescue that monster from Shadow?"

"Yes, I rescued my master and gained valuable information about the Sith in the process. If you could take me to Cody…"

"No!" Samedi refused. He did not trust Shredder or the Sith, and least of all, Krang. He'd interrogate the turncoat, learn what secrets he might be hiding, and finally have his revenge.

"That monster shot my mother when her clan wouldn't give him safe-haven from the Utrom authorities. You're not bringing him back! Any secrets you have learned about the Sith you will tell me and I will decide what to tell Cody."

Krang whimpered like the coward he was, but Shredder did something surprising. He dropped to one knee.

"Please, Samedi, spare Krang. I never realized it until he was gone, but he has been like a father figure to me ever since I joined the Foot."

Krang and Samedi were both surprised. Shredder was actually crying!

Krang didn't buy it for an instant, but knew his life depended on the Hunter believing it. He stopped his own moaning and let Shredder speak for both of them. The idiot was attempting to use reverse psychology, but given his talent as an actor he might actually save Krang unintentionally in the process.

"The Sith are jamming communications from a smaller island twenty kilos south of here!" Shredder spouted this information to Samedi in the most desperate of terms, offering it in exchange for Krang's life.

Samedi stepped forward, slowly.

To Krang, each footfall felt like a tremor.

"How can the Sith block communications for the whole planet from one base?!" the Yautja demanded.

This caused Krang to pause. In all his time as prisoner, Shadow had repeatedly referred to a communications block on "This island," never the whole of Dathomir.

Shredder responded in the only way he knew how with genuine shock and terror.

"I don't know, that's all we could find out! Please, Samedi, please help me!" Shredder did need to act with that sentence. He'd meant every word.

Samedi noted the pathetic figure of the prostrate groveling Triceraton and walked behind him to look at the equally pathetic Utrom who apparently been placed in a cage by the Sith. The monster who had directly caused the death of his mother and indirectly the death of his father was at his mercy!

"Please, don't!" Krang shrieked.

The monster was crying? When he had been at Claudelle's mercy he'd acknowledged her right to vengeance—a valid right which she did not take. No! He couldn't lose his resolve! He thrusted his wristblades forward but Krang yelped causing him to pause—and in that instant, he was back at the waterfall with Claudelle. She had spared him when she had all his weapons and armor. He may not have complained, but he was little less naked and vulnerable than Krang was now. He was a monster too of course. He'd killed Claudelle's ancestor in Haiti, which was why he took the name "Baron Samedi." He'd hurt her family, but she let him live. Krang had done more though. He'd killed Samedi's mother, not some distant ancestor—but Krang himself was pathetic. As long as he was in the cage he couldn't hurt anyone—but Semedi's vengeance—was no different that Claudelle's. His prey couldn't defend himself—only a coward would claim a trophy like that, and he remembered the first time he'd taken a sentient trophy and hear the lament of its—his wife and children as he cleaned the skull. What should have been a normal hunt for a Yautja was different for him, because he knew that he had made those he couldn't kill into what he had been as a child. Krang was a monster, but so was Baron Samedi. Claudelle was more deserving of vengeance because she had been wronged by someone who should have known better—and she let him go. Krang would not be an innocent victim, but considering how weak he was and how strong Samedi was—and their shared history of bloodshed—Samedi would not have the moral high ground if he killed Krang. Mercy was the hard choice, but the one he knew he had to take.

"Stop whining, you'll live. I'm going to tell Cody."

Krang wept tears of joy, but Shredder could hardly hide his frustration.

"Thank you, Samedi. This is most unexpected." The words were almost spoken through gritted teeth.

"Don't call me that anymore. My real name is 'Yeyinde.'"

It meant "Brave One" in common Yautja.

The Predator walked off toward the camp. Krang began cackling.

"You were too dumb to trick him. I guess he thinks he's brave because he said no to his emotions. You can't say yes or no to them, Zed."

Zed started to tear. His entire life he had never been worthy. His family knew it, Krang knew it, and soon Shadow would know it too. His life had been an utter failure. No! The Trishreddatron would not accept that! His turned his hatred outward. He was worthy. It was the universe that couldn't see that. It was the universe that he would force to see that. His anger burned hotter and hotter within him.

Krang, noticing his silence, barked "Well, go ahead, minion. Take me back to camp!" This comment only added to the flame.

Suddenly Shredder recognized that a series of Bellerophonian words had been placed in his mind as triggers. He mentally crushed each of them.

"Master, do you want me to let you out?"

"Of course not, idiot. I'm safe in here right now. When we get home's another story. Follow the Yautja, Shredder."

Shredder then cut the rope holding Krang's cage on his back. It fell to the ground, freeing Krang.

"What are you doing, Shredder, you idiot?!" was the last sentence out of Krang's mouth before Shredder's own wristblades silenced the Utrom forever.

"It's Darth Shredder, idiot."


	31. 3-9 Battle Begins

I realize that this story, being so heavily based on _Lost_ could offend people with a Hutt character, when there was an overweight character on that show. I apologize for my insensitivity but I will make Durga's arc extremely related to the Quintessons' arc as a species in book four and beyond.

* * *

"The Sith have a base on a smaller island twenty kilometers south. That's where they're jamming our communications," Samedi, or "Yeyinde" as he now called himself, said at the beach that morning.

Cody and Mirta stood to the right, Quoreal and Nightscream to the left, with Commander Atrilo directly opposite Yeyinde.

Nightscream immediately shook his head. "One station for the entire planet? There's got to be more."

"That was the only one Shredder said he heard Shadow mention and all he cares about at this point is protecting Krang."

"We do have to remember that Shredder _is_ a Sith now," Mirta answered.

"Then why spring Krang?" Cody crouched above the sand and started drawing lines with a stick.

When Cody had finished drawing, there was a depiction of the fairly large island they were on, a smaller island to the south, and the coastline of the mainland

"Krang has dominated the Foot for centuries. Shredder is a Foot ninja before he's a Sith. Even if he wanted to serve Shadow at first, Krang would eventually bend him back. I say we take Krang at his word on this." Then Cody glanced at Nightscream. "They probably have more bases. We don't know that this island is their only headquarters."

"I agree," Atrilo hovered forward. "My ship detected one source of a communications jam on this planet." Looking to Nightscream she said. "Everything in our scans said that the location roughly matches…" she quivered her tentacles…"this drawing. It may have progressively get weaker over many kilometers, or maybe your message was too grounded to get through the wormhole. I said you'd have better luck on my ship."

Suddenly, Nightscream's long standing suspicion of the Quintessons returned. The look was there for all to see but, Cody chose to ignore it as he rose.

"However many bases they have, our Quintesson friends and Krang have independently confirmed this one."

"Jones, I have an idea," Atrilo said. Everyone looked at her.

"The Sith are still shocked by Shredder's betrayal and rescue of Krang, and are afraid of what knowledge you've brought back. They're off balance, and the—what did you call her—Chiss and I have weapons—we need a distraction. This base could do just that."

"Are you proposing battle?" Quoreal asked in anger, stepping forward.

Atrilo sighed, not bothering to look at Quoreal.

"Please tell the Vong that I have twenty disruptors in my vessel."

Mirta was about to say something about Atrilo's blatant specism, when Cody, Yeyinde, Nightscream, and Quoreal himself all looked at her.

"What?"

"It's Quintesson specism. It comes with the package of having them as allies." Turning to Atrilo, he said in mock deference, "What, o wise one, is a disruptor?"

"It's like a blaster, but it causes explosions on contact."

Quoreal turned to Yeyinde, who smiled.

"We have what we need to get rid of the Sith."

Cody nodded.

"I agree, especially if it comes as a surprise," Cody looked back at the map, "Which is why we need to take out that base."

* * *

Sizhran Sura was leaving the compound to head for the hanger built in to the island's tallest peak. Before she left the compound's premise, she felt her father's presence.

"Yes, Master?" She asked before turning.

"Your greatest test begins today. You must be ready." His yellow eyes penetrated deep into her being. The black and white paint around those eyes would have made them more terrible had she not been accustomed to it.

"I know, father."

He smirked and chuckled. She took it as a mere acknowledgement of fact. After all what cause had she to suspect what he actually had planned for her? Still, she thought this test was a waste of her talent. Neither of her half-brothers had her skill with the Force, nor were they gifted strategists or tacticians. It made since to dispose of them, but to it was not a task worthy of earning the title "Darth." She paused for a moment to consider what her father's reason for making this her final trial could actually be. All of Darth Sidious's Sith trials had involved his apprentices killing someone close to them. Darth Tyranus killed fellow Jedi Syfo-Dyas, Darth Vader had killed Jedi younglings, and her grandfather, Darth Maul, had come close to killing Sidious himself. Likewise, Sidious's master, Darth Plagueis, had had him kill his entire family. Did her father really think she had that kind of bond with her brothers? She was closer to the people she had trained with.

As she stepped forward, the Triceraton emerged from the woods. He approached Shadow holding Krang's cage and its gruesome contents. Kneeling with one knee on the ground his simply said, "Shadow-sensi, I have completed my task."

Shadow smiled, gleefully picking up the cage and moving it while he looked at the contents.

"Good. Good." He said. Consciously imitating what Darth Sidious was supposed to have said to Anakin Skywalker, he inhaled deeply and said, "The Force is strong with you. A powerful Sith you will become. Henceforth you shall be known as Darth…"

Zed Ram hesitated during the pause. He was still the Shredder, the title born by every leader of the Foot since Oroku Saki. He couldn't have new name for his Sith identity. The Shredder was who he—

"Shredder," Shadow finally said.

" _Domo arigato_ , Shadow-sensei." Shredder dropped his other knee and spread his hands on the ground.

"Rise," Shadow commanded.

Sura could not believe this! A being from another galaxy, who had not been trained in the simplest of Sith abilities, had been given a Sith name before her!

Her anger was boiling and her father noticed.

Shredder could tell that Shadow's thoughts were no longer directed at him. He followed his gaze to look at Sura, unaware of what father was saying to daughter.

 _He completed his task, and he has more natural talent with than anyone I've met in decades, even more than myself. If you can overcome him eventually then do so. But it is important that for now we establish a presence in the Milky Way. That means breaking the Rule of One for a time._

Sura frowned. Shredder mentally laughed.

* * *

Everyone was gathered around Atrilo's pod. After she went inside the structure and entered a series of commands with her dominant tentacle. A section of the pod slowly detached with a series of hisses and wrenching sounds to become a thick metallic board that tapered into a triangular tip. Rectangular flaps opened on its sides to reveal shiny obsidian oars. Everything was ready except…there was nowhere for the pilot to sit—something which Mirta rather rudely pointed out to Atrilo.

"Of course there's no seat. We do have chairs for decoration, but not on something that is primarily a wall. Besides and our anatomy does not permit sitting in exactly the same fashion as humanoids. Nor for that matter does a P'weck's."

Lwothin stepped forward, but Cody put a hand on his thin tricep. The saurian looked at him. "We want a volunteer. None of us has to follow the Quintesson navy's commands if we don't consent."

Lwothin gently hummed something, which LKD-9D9 translated as, "My master _is_ volunteering."

"And so am I."

Everyone was shocked to see Uxils volunteering. None more so than Shalx.

"I know there's something waiting for us there that only I can do."

"So, you're willing to get yourself killed for what you think someone in your head told you, like a good little chess piece?" Shalx asked her tone thick with venom.

"A chess piece doesn't have free will. I'm choosing this."

That statement totally confused Shalx to whom the concepts of God and free-will were mutually exclusive. She stared at Uxils to plead for something, but for what neither he or she knew.

Cody also disapproved.

"Uxils, if this is something you think some higher power is telling, don't do it." Less venom, but more resolution. Equally ineffectual.

"I know that there is something that only I can do." Uxils said, and that ended the matter. The survivors pulled the raft to the shallows; Lwothin extended his tail for Uxils to climb onto his back, and stepped onto the raft. A human and a Thermidorian each handed Lwothin an oar. Fortunately, they were long enough for him.

Uxils looked back at Shalx. Their eyes met. He knew she couldn't make sense out of someone like him believing in free-will, but she wanted to—not because she believed that was a Higher Being, but because she was curious as to how one individual could have such seemingly contradictory beliefs.

There was so much Uxils wanted to say that couldn't be expressed through words, let alone eyes.

* * *

A half-hour's rowing brought Lwothin and Uxils to the seemingly vacant island twenty kilometers to the south. The ride had been calm. As they drew near the island, Lwothin had purred and LKD-9D9 had said, "My master wishes to know, what do you think you will find hear?"

"I don't know. I just spent time in my morning meditations and knew that I had to come. There's some trial there that only my experiences are suited for. What and how, I don't know."

That answer had contented Lwothin, and he stepped off the boat. Uxils slid off of him.

They walked for what must have been another hour walking around the island, pushing on trees and rocks. Nothing seemed to be a secret entrance to anything. Lwothin let out hisses exasperation. Since these were not true Ssi-Ruuvi speech sounds LK didn't translate them.

Finally, they made their way to a waterfall following a river path eight and a half kilometers inland. Lwothin decided to make his way behind the waterfall, and there was, as he expected, a cave.

Uxils followed closely behind.

There were…stairs?

This was the Sith jamming station. A surge of dread entered both of them as they hesitated before they began their descent. Shadow would only leave such an important location to one of his most powerful acolytes. Nevertheless, proceed they did, though each fall of foot or tentacle could alert the Sith to their presence. Finally, after minutes that moved like hours they were at the bottom in a large control center…and their bodies were violently jerked into mid-air.

A figure in a black robe twirled his hands and they were pulled toward him. Soon they could see his face, yellow fur and gleaming green eyes.

Lwothin honked out something that LKD-9D9 interpreted with complete shock, "You're a Bothan?!"

"Tav Brei'lya, one of the galaxy's best spies. Is it any surprise that a Force-sensitive in my line of work should see the appeal of the Dark Side. After all, cloak and dagger can ensure public safety even though they deceive and kill. Why can't it be the same with the Dark Side?"

Brei'lya turned his head and a chair rolled out for Uxils, whom he dropped into it.

"You will forgive me for not having a Ssi-Ruuvi hammock, but I have questions for you. If you refuse to answer or lie to me, I will have to extract the memories from you and that will be most unpleasant."

Brei'lya dropped his hold on Lwothin who gently exhaled.

Looking at both the extragalactic alien and the Ssi-Ruu, he asked, "Why can your cybernetic friends send message to and from our island?"

Uxils saw no harm in telling the truth to the Sith, as there was nothing the Sith could do about Quintesson communications technology.

"The Quintessons use different frequencies. Your jammers are useless."

The Bothan pulled back his hood and stretched his hand forward. "You will forgive me for verifying…" Suddenly a single footstep diverted all of Brei'lya's attention.

"Sura, Master Shadow asked you to come hear."

"Yes," a feminine voice came from the opposite end of the chamber. "I need the navigational scrambler deactivated so I can take off from this island. I need to kill my brothers on Falleen."

Brei'lya shook his head, feeling a small measure of pity.

"No, I'm afraid you have come here for me to kill you."


	32. 3-10 Quintesson Victory

Up until now this story has been more heavy with _Star Wars_ elements. Starting with book four, it's going to shift more to _Transformers_. Also, Sura and Tav's relationship is more brother-sister than romantic. I'm not sure how appropriate a Bothan/Chiss romance would be.

* * *

Sura broke Tav's Force-Choke fairly easily; their skills in the Dark Side being nearly equal. The Bothan expected that this would come down to lightsaber skills, so he was not at all surprised. What did surprise him was his opponent's cackle.

"What could be so funny?" He said while igniting his crimson blade.

"I finally get it," she said, making no movement to draw her own lightsaber. "I was never supposed to go to Falleen. You, dear Tav, were my opponent all along."

"And it took you now to realize it? Clearly intelligence is not hereditary." He held his blade to one side. His favored dueling style was the acrobatic fourth form, Ataru.

"Your remarks would have more venom if this were not pre-arranged. But friends or not, only one of us leaves."

She drew her own blade and adopted her preferred Djem So stance.

Uxils looked at the two acolytes poised to destroy one another, trying to understand what kind of monster could turn friends against each other and possibly risk his own daughter. He also noticed that no one was watching him or Lwothin. He looked to the P'weck.

"Lwothin, if we—

Brei'lya raised a fury hand and caused a belt on the Utrom's chair to lock him in place. Then locking his gaze with Sura's they both turned to face the P'weck and unleash Force lightning against him.

The instant Lwothin hit the floor, Brei'lya's blade clashed diagonally into Sura's. She forced him back with a Force-push and well-aimed kick to his chin. He staggered back, but then spun forward and clashed blades repeatedly before kneeing Sura in the stomach and forcing her to drop her blade.

Sura was ready to fall, but she stabled herself and sent a current of Force lightening into Tav's body, stunning him while she called her light saber back to her hand.

Brei'lya was back on his feet when she thrust her blade forward, catching her sideways strike with an immovable vertical blade. When she pulled her blade back, he thrust only to become trapped as she had been seconds before.

This battle was getting nowhere. There skills were to nearly on par. Furthermore, they could not draw on the Dark Side, because they truly had no feelings of hatred towards one another—then Brei'lya remembered that there was a deeper emotion in the Dark Side than anger to draw upon.

Fear, so necessary to a lifeform's survival that only psychopaths were immune to it, was at his disposal. If Sura won, he would be dead, and his dreams of what he would do as Dark Lord would die with him. He drew upon this existential fear and slammed Sura into a wall.

Dazed, Sura was unable to block the coming Force-choke until it was too late. Her throat constricted, her lungs burned. The green eyes that had once belonged to her friend were gone replaced by a fiery Sith-orange. The battle was over, and she, the daughter of Darth Shadow would never have her chance to even the score with that pretentious Triceraton.

Neither of the Sith payed any attention to the P'weck who rose slowly, walked to the Bothan, and bit like the carnivore he was.

Brei'lya's body fell to the floor. Lwothin was the victor.

Sura inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with air. She immediately concentrated on a using a Force-push should the P'weck come closer—but he didn't. He softly growled something which his portable interpreter droid communicated as "My master says, 'Your father has betrayed you. You have been a pawn. There is a Quintesson ship in orbit that can already bypass your communications jam. The Sith are finished. Please leave them and come with us."

The P'weck was not emanating any feelings of deceptiveness but distrust. Sura was careful to note that the distrust was not entirely directed at her.

"There is a Quintesson in your party?"

Lowthin growled in the affirmative. Sura could tell that there was no deception. She looked to the Utrom.

"Yes, and she has the most advantage of anyone here."

"You say that her ship is unaffected by our jamming station?"

"That's right," the Utrom said, "Which is why we need to get a message to Cybertron on the other side of the wormhole without the Quintessons knowing."

Based on everything that her father had learned from Krang and from the Quintesson installations on Dathomir, she judged the Quintessons by far to be a deadlier threat than anything posed by the Republic. The beings from the Milky Way needed to contact their home galaxy for all of their sakes.

She waved her hand and the belt holding Uxils in place unfastened.

"The code activating the jamming frequency is sound-based. I don't know the characters, just the rhythm. It's an old Bothan folk song." She began to hum.

The rhythm sounded like something that Uxils had heard in a French rock opera during his atheist days, _Tu vas me dêtruir_.

He motioned for Sura to bring him to the console where the controls were. He remembered the tune she hummed, though it took his tentacles some fumbling with the alien musical notes. When he finally mapped each note to a sound it was easy matching the what she had hummed. With Brei'lya dead, Uxils was the only one with a musical background and it was so similar to something he'd already known the score of.

Soon, the screen showed a purple sphere, centered on this island and radiating for a hundred kilometers, begin to dissipate from the island outwards.

"Jamming deactivated," the computer said.

However, Uxils's hearts sank as the screen started flashing red. The area that Nightscream had flown to on the mainland had been outside the Sith's range. This computer had been so focused on its own system it hadn't noticed a second field covering the whole planet. Now with its own field gown, the computer detected the larger field.

"Warning! Warning!" the computer repeated. The source of this field appeared to be in orbit.

The Quintessons!

Sura then realized that her father would view her as a traitor if Tav alone was dead, these two alive, and her coming back with this information. She ignited her lightsaber and stabbed Uxils.

* * *

Cody looked at the various members of the group who had volunteered for this assignment. Mirta, Yeyinde, Quoreal, Thrawn, Rukh, Atrilo, Nightscream, and himself all held Quintesson disruptors. Thrawn led them down the long jungle path to the Sith compound. Before they had left Cody had reminded everyone about the Sith's Force abilities. Darth Shadow and his acolytes' combined strength could freeze anyone of them in place, except for Quoreal. Before the Great Reformatting of Cybertron, Nightscream may have been immune to the Force, but being technorganic now, he was likely as vulnerable as the rest of them. Their only advantage lay in surprise. And surprise was only guaranteed if Shadow really recognized everything about this attack as stupid, which it was. There was also the risky factor of Muni Patel. He was the Sith's prisoner…but considering how long he had been with them, could they have turned him? Could they have told him that the people coming to rescue him had killed his father? Suddenly Cody realized that they might not all be here to rescue him. Rukh, thought a parent had the right to put a child to death, and Thrawn had no qualms about killing her own daughter. Was Muni in danger from them?

They were at the compound now.

Before Cody could voice any of his concerns Atrilo commanded them focus all of their disruptors on the first house to the right. They were all in the thick of the trees. For the moment, they had the gift of secrecy.

Atrilo gave the command to fire, and as the eight silver beams met on the side of the building a massive explosion instantly destroyed half the house.

Various black-robed Sith acolytes ran out of the buildings in confusion. Thrawn took down the Mon Cal Ibsim, with one shot to his back. There must have been eight or nine Sith in total. All were now running in various directions.

"Move in to the compound and fan out!" Atrilo ordered.

Doing so kept the acolytes from focusing on a single point it. It was now one on one. The accolytes, still in shock tried to use Force-chokes or deflect the disruptor fire with their lightsabers. They met with enough success for Darth Shadow and Shredder to emerge. The two Sith Lords attempted to tell the acolytes to join them in using the Force to immobilize their foes.

Nightscream noticed Shredder with Shadow and everything clicked. The coup that Shredder had staged against him had been developed with Shadow, his leading the group here to rescue Cody, his meeting with Yeyinde—all of it had been part of a Sith plan. Nightscream loosed a sonic scream that broke everyone's concentration—save Atrilo's who turned her audio feed off.

Atrilo then picked off the remaining Sith one by one, leaving only Shredder and Shadow.

A hush fell over the battlefield.

Shadow looked at Nightscream with intensity. The bat had ruined everything—no! _Jones_ had ruined everything. Cody knew that Cybertronians had these abilities but he, and subsequently Shadow, had not deemed them significant. He glared at the Human from the other galaxy. Of course, Jones, Nightscream, and all the others were pawns on a chessboard. Shadow was actually one of the players, and though his specific opponent was not present, a vassal clearly was. He eyed Atrilo.

"I extend greetings to Dathomir to our Quintesson friends on behalf of the Sith Order."

Atrilo chuckled. "From your tone, I would assume that you think that Sith Order and not the Quintesson Empire owns Dathomir. Surely, I must be mistaken?"

Shadow did not fear this individual Quintesson, or any individual Quintesson for that matter, but he had seen their technology for years and just now seen it used to destroy his compound. It was not wise to provoke them.

"Forgive me, but you have been absentee landlords. The Sith have done their best to govern this galaxy in your absence. But surely you can see that it would be better to have Force-sensitive allies than this rabble you have chosen."

"This 'rabble' just destroyed your compound!" Mirta yelled.

"Silence!" Atrilo snapped, confusing Mirta, and reminding Quoreal and everyone from the Milky Way that they could not trust the Quintesson.

"She has a point, though. We've dispatched your accolytes, so what can you and your apprentices offer us?"

"Lord Shredder," Shadow said, glancing over his shoulder.

"We already know about the Triceraton. What about the one who's lost everything?"

 _Muni_.

Shredder felt his gut wrench.

"Done," Shadow said. He closed his eyes and summoned Veratil. The door to the farthest house opened and out came a Human boy and a rhinoceros-looking creature with diminutive hands protruding from its neck.

Muni ignored everyone except Cody. He had almost forgotten what he looked like. The eyes seemed pleased to see him and touched with concern. Then he saw Rukh, whom he knew better.

He could _feel_ concern from him.

"Did you kill my father?"

Rukh shook his head violently.

"How could you even think that, Muni?" There was no anger from the Noghri, only pity and fear.

He could _feel_ it. Rukh couldn't have been involved.

Shredder knew exactly what had happened.

"Don't trust any of them, Muni! They want to turn you to the Light Side!"

Zed Ram, the Triceraton butler, his friend was calling to him, and Muni could sense real fear from him.

"Muni," Rukh said calmly. "Zed killed Krang. He's the Shredder." Then he added with force, "Darth Shadow killed your father! I saw him!" Muni paused, too shocked to use the force or move. A moment later he looked into Rukh's eyes again and felt through the Force.

"No," Muni could tell Rukh was telling the truth about Shadow, but he couldn't believe what he said about Zed. He reached out for Zed through the Force. Most of Zed's fears were centered on himself. He felt Rukh again. His fears were all for Muni.

Muni looked at both a second time. They were both his friends, but only one was telling him the truth.

He started to run for Rukh, but Veratil paralyzed him with the Force and began laughing. Yeyinde ran forward, driving his wrist blades into Veratil's neck.

"You wouldn't kill Krang, but you killed him!" Shredder groaned in disbelief.

"If I killed Krang it would have been out of vengeance. I killed the acolyte to rescue Muni. Vengeance liberates no one. Since Krang is dead, I guess you should know."

Muni ran towards Rukh and embraced him, but he stared in Zed's eyes.

"You were supposed to be _my_ apprentice…"

Muni tried to feel Zed through the Force again. Zed _did_ care about, but everything he had said about being a butler, everything about Mr. Craig, everything about Cody killing his father…that had all been lies. Rukh _knew_ Cody's version was true. Zed _knew_ Shadow's version was a lie and backed it up anyway.

"I'm sorry, Zed-ji, but you have nothing I want to learn."

Cody breathed a sigh of relief. For the first time since the collision, everyone knew who the good guys and bad guys were. He looked at Atrilo. No—not quite.

"The human child is clearly no use to us as he currently is, but you, Darth Shredder…if we push you enough…"

Atrilo fired her disruptor at Shadow's right hand. His hand was gone and he had to cauterize the wound with his lightsaber.

Shredder summoned a fallen acolyte's lightsaber. He flung the lightsaber at Atrilo, penetrating her mid-section. Her jet-motor failed and she crumpled to the ground. The organic nerves in her tentacles kept them thrashing about, but Shredder and Cody both knew that her clone had just been activated.

Shadow and Shredder ran into the jungle.

Everyone was trying to make since of what had happened, but Cody, Nightscream, and Yeyinde knew what already begun. A Quintesson invasion was already underway.


	33. 4-1 Galaxies Meet

**Dramatis Personae for Book 4**

 **With the Survivors**

Cody Jones (Human male from Earth, originally from _TMNT: Fast Forward_ )

Mirta Rau (Human female from Concord Dawn, Madalorian Warrior, OC)

Yeyinde (Yautja male, species from _Predator_ , OC)

Quoreal Rapuung (Yuuzhan Vong male, warrior caste, species from _Star Wars Legends_ , OC)

Nightscream (Maximal male, bat, from _Beast Machines)_

Rukh (Noghri male, species from _Star Wars Legends,_ husband to Meewal, OC)

Meewal (Noghri female, wife to Rukh, OC)

Muni Patel (juvenile Human male from Earth, OC)

Durga Besadii Tai (Hutt male, species in _Star Wars_ canon, OC)

Shalx (Utrom female, species originally from _TMNT_ comics, OC)

N'thraw'nyusaya (Chiss female, species from _Star Wars_ canon, mother of Sizhran Sura, OC)

 **With the Quintessons**

Supreme Arbiter Alðerata (Quintesson male, judge caste, supreme leader of the Quintesson species, OC)

Deliberata (Quintesson male, judge caste, leader of the Dathomiri expedition, from _Transformers G1 miniseries "Five Faces of Darkness")_

Inquiriata (Quintesson male, scientist caste, from _Transformers G1 episode "Forever Is a Long Time Coming"_ )

Hexato (Quintesson female, scientist caste, OC)

Atrilo (Quintesson female, warrior caste, OC)

Starscream (Decepticon male, jet, from _Transformers G1_ )

 **With the Sith**

Darth Shadow/Sizhran Savazh (leader of the New Sith, male, Faleen/Zabrak hybrid, _OC from "Shadows of the Sith",_ father to Sizhran Sura, master to Darth Shredder)

Darth Shredder/Zed Ram (Triceraton male, apprentice to Darth Shadow, based on Trishreddatron concept from canceled second season of _TMNT: Fast Forward_ )

Sizhran Sura (Sith acolyte, daughter to Darth Shadow and N'thraw'nyusaya, female, Chiss/Faleen/Zabrak hybrid)

 **With Primus**

Primus (Rakaata male, character from _Transformers_ , species from _Star Wars Legends_ , creator of the Cybertronians)

Lwothin (P'weck male, species from _Star Wars Legends_ , OC)

A year had passed since the Cybertronian-Dathomiri Wormhole had been stabilized. A year since the Milky Way and the Republic became aware of each other's existence. There had been many questions raised by the existence of humans in two galaxies and of Mandalorian culture's apparent Yautja origins. Peaceful relations had been established between the Republic Senate and most of the Milky Way governments, but the one entity that everyone had to trust was the Quintesson "Empire." More an interstellar conglomerate with an army than a real empire, the Quintessons understood ancient technology that linked the Galaxies. Furthermore, though there was no way to trust them, they alone were in the position to know what had linked the two galaxies in the past, and the tale that they spun was almost too wild to be believed.

The Humans, the most populous species in the Republic, had originated on Earth in the Milky Way, and the Yautja, who were the confirmed forerunners of Mandalorian civilization were also Milky Way natives. A bigger surprise was that Yuuzhan Vong's galaxy of origin was also the Milky Way. The technologically advanced society that had once devastated their homeworld was, of course, the Quintessons themselves. Subsequently the sentient Yuuzhan Vong homeworld, Yuuzhan'taar, had been… _eaten_ …by a sentient mechanical world named Unicron. Most species in the Milky Way regarded Unicron as the ultimate evil in the universe, totally eclipsing Emperor Palpatine and the Death Star in comparison. In Cybertronian religion, Unicron was the personification of evil, while his brother Primus was the personification of good. Primus may just be legend, but the planet-devourer had shown up enough times in visually recorded Milky Way history to be confirmed as a real entity. Fortunately, Rodimus Prime had used the Autobot Matrix of Leadership to destroy Unicron. Still, the Quintessons, who claimed to devoid of superstition or spirituality had an almost worshipful attitude regarding Unicron.

The Quintessons themselves were the biggest surprise of all. They were apparently native to the galaxy that would later be controlled by the Republic and the Empire. Their original homewolrd was apparently Nal Hutta, the same as the Hutts and the Til'anda Til. Although to be accurate the Quintessons only referred to it as Ðaral, and demanded immediate submission of all Hutt Kajidics. The Quintessons had no intention to resettle but still demanded tribute from the Hutt Kajidics and the Til'anda Til for "using" "their" world. Apparently all the Quintesson's moving of Humans and Yutja from various points in the Milky Way's history back into the Republic's distant past had been to prevent the rise of a Dark Side-using Hutt empire that would have proved a threat to their overall plans. Strange that the humans ended up forming that exact Empire all on their own. But then Quintesson attempts at timeline manipulation always had mixed results at best. Certainly, none of the Quintessons had foreseen that their droids on Cybertron would develop full sentience and rebel against them twelve million years ago. Still the Quintesson had managed all of their operations in what would later be Republic space after losing Cybertron, and maintaining a secret wormhole in that system without the Autobots or Decepticons knowing a thing about it. If one was morally appalled by Quintesson planning, they could not help but be fascinated by its intricate complexities. Durga certainly was.

Being the son of the former Besadii Kajidic leader, a stated neutralist in the inter-Kajidic conflict, and a witness to first contact with the Milky Way, his people chose him to be their official representative in the negotiations with the Quintesson representative.

The building, like most on Nal Hutta, was made mostly of wood, the curves of the various tree trunks obvious along the walls, but it had a massive stone entryway that could retract upward to allow vehicles in. Durga was on top of a dais in his main audience chamber, waiting for the representative when he heard the door slowly move open. He thought he heard something like a fighter enter, then a jagged mechanical noise.

The entryway closed and large metallic footfalls made their way to the audience chamber.

This was no Quintesson.

The being finally entered. It towered over Durga and all the organics. There seemed to be something like a black helmet over a gray silicon face with glowing red eyes. The being's arms and legs were white metal, with significant layers of red metal over its chest. Finally, it had two triangular steel wings.

Before it said anything, Durga sputtered, "Where's the Quintesson ambassador?"

"One doesn't need to be a Quintesson to negotiate for them," the being responded in a slow, high-pitch, nasal voice. "I'm former Decepticon Air Commander Starscream. I'm with the Quintessons now."

That made no sense to Durga. From everything that Nightscream had said and everything he'd learned in the last year, Autobots and Decepticons were called Maximals and Predicons now, and besides that weren't they all technorganic now?

"You're entirely technological?" Durga asked.

"I was off planet when all that happened," Starscream said as he paced back and forth with measured steps, "A relic of a bygone age."

Something else clicked with Durga.

"Weren't your people created to be slave labor for the Quintessons?"

"That was then, this is now," the Decepticon said, continuing his pacing. "Given my past, I'm something of a pariah among the Maximals and Predicons. I needed a home, and the Quintessons needed someone who understands the Cybertronian spark. We both get something we want out of our arrangement, not unlike what the Quintessons want to offer you."

"How do the Hutts get any benefit out of signing all rights to our homeworld over to the Quintssons?"

"Don't the Til'anda Til who are also native this world have the same question about the Hutts' own rulership?"

That question made Durga stop to consider something he'd never noticed before. He'd long been wary of Hutt culture's glorification of crime, and of the problems that ultimately fell on the perpetrators themselves, but he'd never connected any of these to crimes that the Hutt Species conducted as a whole to the devaluation of other sentient beings.

"Besides," Starscream broke into Durga's thoughts, "your species had a much easier life cycle back when the Quintessons lived here as full organics."

Durga was completely confused about what Starscream was talking about.

"They were already in the Milky Way twelve million years ago. Recorded Hutt history doesn't go back that far."

"Yours doesn't, theirs does."

"Anyway, why would the Quintessons blame us for their life cycle?"

"Probably jealousy," Starscream said. It genuinely sounded like it was only a guess, "But your fault or not, they hate you for it. They also hate the Til'anda Til, but they especially hate the Hutts."

Durga was guessing that the Cybertronian knew nothing about his creators' past on Nal Hutta, so he decided to move the conversation along.

"You said the Quintessons had something to offer us?"

Starscream nodded. "Near total independence. All that they ask is that you occasionally lend them services or resources from each of your Kajidics' criminal empires. In return they, will give you whatever medical supplies you want and every crime boss gets their personally programmed and completely loyal Sharkticon attack droids."

All of Durga's fears of what was wrong with Hutt culture came back to him. His people were so materialistic they would want any miracle cure the Quintessons could promise, and they would love personal attack droids, putting the traditional species that served them in this regard out of work. The Kajidics would bring new horrors to the galaxy by becoming the Quintesson's active accomplices—and, Durga, just now realized, would become Quintesson's victims themselves.

Everything that Durga hated about the Kajidic system told him his species deserved this fate—but—"I can't agree to these terms."

The Hutt manipulation of other species did not justify the Quintessons doing the same. Even if the Hutts deserved to be on the receiving end of manipulation for once, the Quintessons should not be the ones to do it. They would ultimately hurt everyone in the galaxy— _no_ , Durga corrected himself, _the known universe._

Starscream walked over to Durga and stared down at him. "You don't seem to understand. There is nothing to negotiate. You will get no better offer. The Quintessons are capable of reigning destruction down upon Nal Hutta and leave it habitable for themselves afterwards."

These were techniques that the Empire or First Order would use. Fortunately, there was a Republic to stand up to the Quintessons.

"We have experience with your type in this galaxy."

Starscream sucked in a breath as he erupted into an angry, " _We_ have experience with yours." Starscream locked eyes with Durga and crouched slightly so that their eyes would be roughly level.

"You are counting on your Republic to save you, just like the Autobots protected so many of the worlds we would've conquered in the Milky Way."

Durga could tell now that Starscream was talking about the Decepticons and not the Quintessons.

"So? You lost."

"Not if I had been in command," Starscream said regretfully. Suddenly his tone became vicious as he rose to his full height. "And _you_ are not in command here. The Kajidics know that they must meet our terms." Unfortunately, Starscream was right.

 **Dathomir, One year ago**

Durga had been left as leader of the community while Atrilo led the others against the Sith. So far, everyone was anxious. They could all be about to be rescued, or face a lifetime as Sith prisoners. Durga slithered around the camp, asking the muscular crustacean Thermidorians to keep guard. The Thermidorians also had blasters given to them by Atrilo, so the group felt safe for the time being. He saw Shalx starring off at the island twenty kilometers to the south as she held Shlizet in her tentacles. Something was clearly on her mind. He slithered closed to his Utrom friend.

"What's the matter?" the Hutt asked.

"Uxils, something he said…he believes that its possible for an intelligent higher power to exist and for us to still have free will, and he's risking his life for it."

"You're worried about him?"

"Kinda, and confused. If there is some higher intelligence that preprogrammed everything, how can we still have free will? A sentient should only belief one or the other."

Durga thought for a moment. In Hutt religion, the gods created everything and waited to meet successful Hutts after death, but they couldn't see the future or inside a Hutt's mind, so free-will was a non-issue for most Hutts. However, given his own rejection of most of Hutt culture after his dad was killed in front of him, he wanted to believe that there was some higher standard than just society—his thoughts were interrupted when Shalx exclaimed, "The raft!"

Everyone gathered around her to watch the raft return to the main island. Slowly the figure of Lwothin became apparent, and within twenty minutes of the raft's departure, he'd arrived back on the main island. A lifeless mass of pink flesh was in front of him.

Everyone was speechless until Shalx began, "Is that…?" Her tongue became paralyzed.

Lwothin softly growled and snorted. LKD-9D9 translated, "My master says that they would have never broken the code on the jamming system had it not been for Uxils. Without him everything would have been a total failure and we would not know our true threat."

"True threat?" one of the Thermidorians asked.

Lwothin snarled.

"The Sith jamming signal is down, but the Quintessons have erected one around the entire planet."

Everyone started arguing amongst themselves. Lwothin roared for them all to be quiet. While the saurian explained the Quintesson threat, Shalx dwelt on his words. How had Uxils known to go there? According to Lwothin they couldn't have found out without him, and everyone had heard Uxils volunteer. Somehow, he'd known. Uxils might not have been crazy after all.

Shalx tapped Durga on the tail.

He looked down.

"I think it's possible I was wrong about Uxils."

Suddenly Durga was filled with hope. If Uxils got those messages from somewhere, than maybe, just maybe, that higher meaning he wished for might exist.


	34. 4-2 QIS Inquisitor

**Quintesson Imperial Starship** _ **Inquisator**_

Atrilo's vocal processor gasped as Darth Shredder threw his master's lightsaber into her torso. The scream did not come until later, when her optic processors came online and her tentacles felt the wet metal of a stasis tube. Standing directly in front of her once the tube opened was a figure more terrifying than a Triceraton Sith apprentice.

The pale grey dome of Judge Deliberata's five-sided mantel met her gaze. The side pointing to her was his Face of Death.

"I take it your mission was unsuccessful." A cold dismissal pervaded his voice. The Judges had ruled over the "lesser" Quintesson castes since time immemorial. They were almost completely robotic, with only their brains remaining organic. Deliberata had wires, not tentacles, though his appearance—identical to all Judges apart from how his five faces were arranged—closely mimicked his original organic appearance in shape and coloration—apart from the humanoid faces and lack of a beak between his tentacles where his jet motor was now located. All Quintessons now had robotic humanoid faces, and jet motors where their beaks had once been.

Warriors, like Atrilo had no way around the judges' influence. She could not vent frustration at him. Instead she would contradict him in a matter-of-fact report.

"I was able to virtually destroy the Sith presence on Dathomir, Magistrate."

"Hmm," his vocal processor purred as he rubbed two of his many wires together. " _Virtually_ , and yet you were killed."

"The Master and his apprentice, the Triceraton, are still alive."

"And they are the ones who killed you." A statement, not a question.

Atrilo activated her jet motor and emerged from the open stasis tube to hover over the ship's floor.

"They are all that remain of those at the compound."

"'Those at the compound?' Your work becomes less pleasing with each statement." For the first time, Deliberata injected feeling into his words, specifically displeasure.

"I regret my failure," she said submissively, though she was boiling with rage inwardly. What more could she have done by herself? She converted her anger into an optimistic tone as she continued her report. "Still, the Sith have suffered significant losses and the survivors are bereft of hope. Victory will mostly likely follow a proper campaign utilizing Sharkticon ground forces."

Deliberata's voice changed once more as he switched to his Face of Wrath with its red headgear. "Yes, the Sharkticons. They are programmed not to fail. Unlike you!"

Atrilo had no option but to bow. She would find some other way to get even with the Judge. For the time being all that mattered was the success of the mission.

Thinking back to the Judge, her vengeance would be long in the making, careful in detail, and ultimately brief in its impact. No Quintesson had ever permanently killed another ever since they had become cyborgs—to do so would violate the very reason they had become cyborgs in the first place. Permanently killing another Quintesson, no matter the caste was the one unforgivable moral line that could not be crossed. Atrilo had no intention of crossing it and took comfort in the fact that, for all his blustering, Deliberata would not cross it either. Still, it was annoying that Judges had exclusive say in what rules governed the conduct of the living.

Deliberata left Atrilo to her thoughts. He had to check on the pair of Scientists assigned to the mission. He found them in a room with a holographic projection of Dathomir and their spiral shaped ship in orbit. The ship was almost invisible when its projection was in proportion to the planet. However, Deliberata could still see it as the as a dot from which a large, yellow, netlike jamming field was emanating.

"How is the jam holding?" He asked with his Face of Doubt, the one with multiple green spikes on the headgear, facing the Scientists.

Like all Warriors, all Scientists were identical in appearance. The male, Inquiriata, spun to look at him first; the female, Hexato, following only a microsecond later. Both bowed to the Judge.

Long ago, their caste had been known as Workers, but with the invention of the Cybertronians, and later the Sharkticons, the devotion of an entire caste to duties that could be performed by robots became as waste of resources. With the Judges devoting their time to legal philosophy, and the Warriors to complex battle tactics and war strategy, feats of engineering and temporal mechanics fell to the Worker caste. All Quintessons however, especially the Judges, retained theoretical scientific knowledge and occasionally practiced it to keep themselves sharp. There was no fear on the part of the Warriors or Judges that the Scientists could find a way to stop the transfer of memories from one clone to another. Judges oversaw their own cloning, as did Warriors, as did Scientists.

"The field over Dathomir is holding, Magistrate," Inquiriata said.

"There is a 98.7% chance that the field will continue to hold for six standard lunar cycles without adjustment on our part, Magistrate."

Deliberata rotated to his Face of Laughter, the pudgy face that was crowned with an orange flower.

"Well done, Scientists!" Unlike his relations with Warriors, Deliberata got on exceedingly well with Scientists, their profession having been closest to his own before the Great Transformation from pure organic to cybernetic. Still he did feel a bit of resentment toward the Scientists. They, like the Warriors, still maintained fully organic tentacles. Their sense of touch was far stronger than Deliberata's own. And these two in particular _loved_ to touch. That disgusted Deliberata. In the time before the Great Transformation, those Quintessons who chose to reproduce produced enough children per couple to keep the species alive, but the act meant impending death for the parents. Quintessons who wanted to reach their full maximum lifespan had to completely remove themselves from the species' genepool and deny powerful instincts.

The fact that Scientists and Warriors could cheat the system and still have physical contact, made Deliberata uneasy. It was a reminder of an age of darkness.

"We are detecting numerous life signs on the target island," Hexato said. She would not use those terms if those life signs did not match the signatures of sentients on Quintesson records.

"Many humans, one Cybertronian, one Triceraton—as expected," surprise followed, "one Yautja and one Hutt."

Deliberata grew furious when he heard the mention of a Hutt on the planet. The primitive gastropods who remained behind on Ðaral, who did not have to kill themselves to reproduce… Deliberata raised one of his artificial tentacles to smash the nearest console, stopping himself before he actually made contact and caused permanent damage. He wanted to grind all Hutts down into slavery. But there was a more immediate threat to deal with…

"You said there was a Yautja among the survivors? What gender and was there a ship?"

Seldom did Yautja princesses venture out of Yautja space except to sign treaties. The Yautja with the Survivors must be a hunter.

"The Yautja is a male and no ship was detected, Magistrate," Inquiriata replied.

"Hrng…" Deliberata muttered angrily. "And I presume he wasn't on the manifest either?"

"Negative, Magistrate," Inquiriata further clarified.

This Yautja had snuck on board the ship. Clearly, he was not there to hunt, or he would have come in his own cloaked ship…no, he was after someone specific. It could have been anyone on the ship but…

"70.3% chance that the Yautja was after the Triceraton. _Our_ Triceraton."

The two Scientists looked back at the Judge. Their tentacles twitched in worry.

"There is no need to worry as of yet. Atrilo informed me that the Triceraton is now a Sith Apprentice."

"But he has only just begun to study the Force. That does not guarantee victory over a seasoned hunter," Hexato said.

Keeping his face of Inquiry dominant, Deliberata folded his tentacles and said. "Consider for a moment all the time that the Shredder has been down there. If the Yautja has not caught him yet, what makes you think he will do it when the Shredder is under the protection of a Sith Lord?"

The two scientists stop moving processing for the first time that this was not some mere Triceraton but the leader of the Foot Clan.

"Your point is conceded, Magistrate," Inquriata said and glanced to his lover. She nodded.

Deliberata bobbed his mantle to signify his own agreement. For all that scientists could recognize complex mathematical equations and natural cycles of cause and effect, they could not read sentients. That's why Judges always had to be consulted on time travel events that involved sentient subjects. Still, Deliberata admitted, even Judges found it extremely difficult to predict human behavior and, ever since the year 1984 on Earth's Gegorian calendar, Autobot and Maximal behavior. Still, Decepticons remained relatively easy to predict, and somehow Decepticons could predict humans. That was one reason that Starscream, their creation, had risen so high in the Supreme Arbiter's favor. The Judge decided it was time to pay the last and least, fully sentient member of the crew.

Starscream's quarters were far from the four Quintessons, and Deliberata felt some trepidation as he walked toward their creation's quarters. Quarters, not a cell, the Arbiter had insisted. It still eluded Deliberata's mind why the Arbiter trusted this Decepticon who had no shown no loyalty to his previous masters, the Decepticon Megatron—better known to the Quintessons as Galvatron, and the Predicon Megatron who, like Starscream's Spark, had been temporarily trapped on prehistoric Earth. As a rule, the original programming that the Quintessons had given the Decepticons had not deteriorated as badly as that of the Autobots, but Starsctream was his own story. He had even betrayed Unicron himself, who had rebuilt his body.

Deliberata switched to his death face pressed the key that opened the door to the quarters. Starscream had no way of unlocking his door from the inside, unlike any of the Quintessons.

"Greetings, Magistrate."

The high-pitched nasal voice irritated Deliberata to no end. The voice's owner sat on a bench built in to the silver wall.

Deliberata's voice synthesizer couldn't help but process a gulp. The being he was speaking to could easily destroy his body. Fortunately, that wasn't going to happen today, but still, Starscream was a being that none of them, including the Supreme Arbiter, could trust. Hopefully, the Supreme Arbiter did not actually trust him—no, he _could_ not, given Starscream's history. Still, something made the Decepticon arch-traitor useful. Something that the Supreme Arbiter was not sharing.

"Starscream, there are a great deal of Humans in the group on the surface. As you know their behavior patterns seem erratic to the Quintesson mind."

"And you need me to suggest your next course of action?"

"No!" Deliberata said defensively. "Atrilo has already left the survivors in a state of despair. I have a series of strategies to face them. I merely need you to suggest which one you feel to be the best."

"All right," Starscream said calmly as he stood up. "Let's have it."

"A: Their hope is broken. They are demoralized. Launch an all-out strike and kill them all."

Starscream shook his head. "A new common threat will just re-energize their determination to stay alive. Never underestimate a desperate human."

Deliberata bobbed his mantle, low enough to indicate agreement—not so low as to be misconstrued as bowing.

"B: Continue to act under the guise of being there to help the survivors. I do not see this option as viable."

"Why not?"

"Atrilo did something to demoralize them. Pretending that we are there to help them would be incredulous from their perspective."

"We are thinking alike again, Magistrate. What is option C?" The Decepticon seemed interested, almost too interested.

"We do not try to kill them, and even offer them aid, but be honest that we have objectives of our own that have nothing to do with getting anyone home."

Starscream pointed to Deliberata and then quickly lowered his hand.

"That is it exactly. See? You didn't even need me."

 _And soon we'll be done with you freak_. Deliberata allowed himself a quiet chuckle.


	35. 4-3 Weak

AN: Darth Shadow does not believe that Snoke was a Shaman of the Whills and may underestimate him.

The newly anointed Sith apprentice Darth Shredder followed his master Darth Shadow for what seemed like hours in a winding forest trail. Finally, Shadow reached a cave in the side of the island's large mountain. The master stopped moving and simply said to the Triceraton, "In there." The cave's mouth was wide enough to allow both to enter at once.

Once inside, Shadow used his remaining hand to ignite a torch mounted on the wall with the Force.

Having accomplished this, he then walked to a boulder and sat cradling his amputated limb. He was now like his biological father Darth Maul and his unofficial master Darth Vader. It could be worse. He only lost a hand, Maul and Vader had lost an entire body between them. He would not become a full cyborg—not like his predecessors and not like the creatures who did this to him. He turned his mind to the Quintessons trying to probe their master plan. His desire for vengeance did not hinder his meditation—it aided it. He could tell that they were dealing with a strong power, greater than the Yuuzhan Vong, Snoke, Sidious, or even Marka Ragnos himself. They could partly be sensed through the Force as they Quintessons still maintained organic parts with midichlorians, but so much was hidden by the very nature of their extensive mechanical parts. All he could tell was there was a larger threat than he had imagined and that, as diminished as the signal was, he felt more concentrated hate from one Quintesson Judge than he had even from Darth Sidious.

"Master!"

Shredder spun around at Sura's voice. Shadow merely opened his eyes.

Sura glanced at her father's missing arm, and spoke not as apprentice but daughter.

"Father, are you alright?"

"I will survive, and more importantly, the Sith will survive," his voice thick with determination.

Sura thought about what he could have meant.

"The compound?" she asked worriedly.

"Destroyed by the Quintessons."

There was a moment of thick silence.

"So, you passed the test?"

"Yes, master. Brei'lya is dead."

Shadow held his head back. "There is something more you wish to tell me."

"Yes, Master. After defeating Brei'lya, I found that the Quintessons have erected a communication's barrier over the whole planet."

Shadow was silent for a moment as he probed his daughter's mind. There was something she was holding back.

"How did you defeat Brei'lya?"

"I, well I used my Force abilities and lightsaber—

Shadow held up his hand and Sura began to choke.

Shredder watched with keen interest as Shadow contorted his face with each inhalation and exhalation.

"The Ssi-Ruu…the Ssi-Ruu killed Brei'lya…and you let _him_ live."

Shadow flung his hand dismissively and Sura breathed freely again.

"I stopped him from killing _me_!'

"Not at all the same, my dear daughter, and you should know that."

"I did kill the Utrom that was with him," Sura whined.

"Be silent!" her father commanded. "This is not the tone of a Dark Lady of the Sith, but a spoiled Falleen princes!" he barked at her. "The whole point of the trials was to test the survivor's abilities to the limits!"

Sura growled in her throat and looked at Shredder. "And what did _you_ have to do? Kill an imprisoned Utrom?"

Now it was Shredder's turn to boil with fury. Grabbing Sura violently by the shoulders, he locked eyes with her and said, "Krang was my master! He used my self-doubt to keep a prisoner. Working up the power to kill him on my own required the most intensive push with the Dark Side I ever had to make. It would've been easy for you, because he'd didn't have any leverage against you, but I had to fight and gain my freedom from that squid. I had to acquire the freedom to become Darth Shredder, you spoiled little girl!" He pushed her down.

Sura looked at her father for sympathy. The Dark Lord's face seemed content and completely oblivious to his daughter. When he did turn his gaze in her direction, he frowned.

"You should listen to what Lord Shredder is saying. Mental battles can be as difficult as anything that requires fist or lightsaber."

Sura swallowed and nodded.

"Yes, master." She understood.

"Do you?" Asked her father. Telepathy had hardly been necessary for Shadow to know that she thought she'd grasped something.

Now, both Shredder and Sura were confused.

"Overcoming Brei'lya was your trial. The Ssi-Ruu interrupted. You should have made him pay. Instead you killed his much weaker Utrom companion and let the Ssi-Ruu escape. Why?"

This was literally the moment of truth. If she said anything with even a hint of deception in it, her father would detect it.

"The Ssi-Ruu saved me from Brei'lya to warn me about the Quintessons. We were able to confirm that they have a communications block over the whole planet. After learning this, I killed the Utrom who was nearest to me and spun to face the Ssi-Ruu. He was filled with anger and flung me into a wall…" looking at her father she saw disgust fill his face.

"So you didn't just let him escape, you actually tried…but were too weak. You say he rescued you from Brei'lya?"

Sura nodded.

"And then you killed his Utrom friend?"

Sura made no movement. Shadow stepped forward, cradling his amputated hand.

"You are an imbecile!" He barked at her. "You should have waited until they had both turned their backs to you. Then you really could have dispatched both of them, and news of this jamming field would have been brought back to me and me alone!" He dropped his injured limb and sent torrents of Force-lightning into her body with his intact hand.

Shredder looked on with a mix of emotion. She was an arrogant snot whom he detested but after several seconds it was clear that she was in unbearable pain being caused by her own father.

Suddenly it stopped.

"You are a Sith acolyte, subordinate to Lord Shredder and myself. If you wish to advance, prove yourself against the Quintessons."

 **Foot Clan Headquarters, New York, New York, Earth**

 **Three Years Later**

Darth Shredder looked across his desk as leader of the Foot, toward Boss Zuko, a member of the Triceraton Mafia. The room was large, with red carpet, and two windows looking out onto the streets bellow. Two Triceraton body guards accompanied the Mafia leader.

Zuko was larger than Shredder, more muscular, proudly showing of his arms with his sleeveless black shirt. Shredder hated the other Triceraton. He had the kind of body that was typical of most Triceraton males, thick and muscular—a type that Shredder lacked. Fortunately, Shredder no longer worried about his lean build. He had the Dark Side of the Force, and was thus infinitely stronger.

"So, Boss Zuko, I am to understand that you no longer wish for the Foot to traffic Xemorene for you?"

The sale of the highly addictive adrenaline-enhancer was extremely profitable and illegal. By controlling the distribution of this drug on Earth, the Foot had grown incredibly wealthy and powerful. Wealth and influence had been ends in and of themselves under Krang, but now that Shredder was in charge they were means to an end—gaining the influence necessary for the Sith to one day stand up to the Quintessons. It would probably take a long time for that to occur—it had taken Darth Bane's lineage of Sith a thousand years to destroy the Jedi. Darth Bane…The Rule of Two…There were only two of them left.

"It simple, really," Zuko cut into Shredder's thoughts. "We are not making back what we invest."

"We distribute the product. And since we are already based on Earth, we are actually saving you credits in transportation, food, and lodging costs." Everything in Shredder's synthesized voice indicated that he was calm.

"See, that's the thing," Zuko said, "You keep sixty percent of the profit for yourselves."

"Those were the terms _you_ agreed to. We do most of the work ourselves."

Zuko glared into Shredder's eyes.

"And we lose money on that. We know your scientists make your own Xemorene which we don't get squat for!"

Shredder would have to find out who leaked that information to Zuko and dispose of them. Right now, he had a more immediate problem to take care. A mind trick wouldn't work with such an obvious discrepancy. This called for a lightsaber. Shredder pushed his chair back the semicircular off-yellow desk and stood. His hand moved to what looked like a bladeless Katana hilt hanging from the right side of his belt.

Moving his free arm, he began a mind-trick, "Naturally, we are only doing what you would do in our place."

"You only did what we would do in your place," Zuko said as Shredder unclasped the bladeless katana and seemed to press a button on it.

Everyone starred as a red, slightly curved blade sprung up from the hilt. Shredder then fatally slashed Zuko's chest. He looked at the shocked guards who stood dumfounded and slowly reached for their blast.

"No, no, no," the intimidating Sith-ninja said while holding his Katana-shaped lightsaber.

"Go back to your leaders and tell them our relationship needs to be renegotiated."

* * *

Shredder went into the room behind the dojo, the poorly lit room where Krang would make secret off-world calls, perhaps even to the very being who got them to Dathomir in the first place. Now a new being, a hooded Sith sat atop the small incline of wooden steps, inhaling the burning incense on the top stair. Shadow concealed the being's face. All Shredder could see was two organic hands. Why weren't they in gloves right now?

"How did your meeting with the drug dealers go?"

Shredder bowed on one knee. He hated this person as much as he hated Krang.

"We now control the market for Xemorene on Earth…Master."

"Good," Darth Shadow emerged far enough forward that his painted black and white skull-like face was visible.

He then summoned a current of Force Lightning through his bare grafted hand. It didn't strike anything, merely crackling between his long fingernails. The Sith Master was content to let it crackle for a while. He had only recently had the limb cloned using Quintesson technology.

The fact that his master would use the most cherished technology of his archenemies seemed ironic but not out of place to Shredder. After all, the very nerve connections were the same as the ones he'd lost, and just as Force Sensitive.

Shadow let the lightning ascend upward in an arc before he stopped playing and pulled his black gloves taught.

"With my body fully restored, I'm ready to exact my vengeance on those self-satisfied squid."

"Does my Master have a plan?"

Shadow chuckled. "I've been studying the history of the Milky Way. The largest non-contiguous space empire in history. Almost every race in the galaxy has faced potential Quintesson colonization at some point and most have suffered the rape of natural resources. If we can band the near universal resentment that the Quintessons have created for themselves into an organized political entity, we will have something to begin with." Shadow paced with his back to Shredder.

Shredder stared at his master in disgust. There were plenty of ways to build the Sith's influence in the Milky Way without building a political party that would never hold sway on most Milky Way worlds—well, maybe D'hoonyb and the Triceraton homeworld which only hated the Quintesson more than they hated each other. Most of the Milky Way idolized Quintesson moral relativism. Furthermore the Quintessons were invertebrates-their species was automatically seen as victims because of the way other invertebrates had been treated, particularly by the Triceratons, Still though, Shadow wasn't thinking rationally. Shredder felt as though he were Cyclonus, the general loyal to the Decipticon cause trying to obey the insane dictates of Galvatron before his leader regained mental stability. Shadow, however, showed no signs of regaining stability though.

Shadow sensed Shredder's thoughts. He spun to face him, "You think I'm mad, like the Decepticon Emperor, don't you?" Nothing in Shadow's voice indicating that he was angry with Shredder.

"No, of course not master." Shredder immediately felt his throat constrict and his body being pulled toward the steps.

"Do not lie when you are caught! That is weakness and I despise weakness! Remember my daughter!"


	36. 4-4 Turning Point

AN: I didn't think it was going to happen, but the Noghri are back in Star Wars canon. The first canon Noghri is Grand Admiral Thrawn's bodyguard Rukh, who was the namesake for my male Noghri character when he was only in Legends. I don't if I'm making my Rukh a relative, or if it's just a common male Noghri name. There's a picture of canon Noghri on Wookiepedia.

Cody had mixed feelings as he led the band of warriors back toward camp. They had rescued Muni, who seemed to have formed some kind of bond with Rukh, and they had almost totally eliminated the Sith as a major faction on Dathomir, and—hopefully—in the galaxy at large. Shadow was the One Sith and they'd definitely killed most of his followers here. Still, there was even more reason for caution. Their Quintesson ally had been unusually interested in the Sith Apprentices, before Shredder had killed her.

What exactly the Quintesson were up to was the question, but everyone from the Milky Way was sure it was nothing good.

Mirta, who had been walking next to Cody the entire way back, stopped walking and said, "I get it."

Cody stopped and looked at her, knitting his eyebrows.

"Atrilo definitely had some kind of agenda that she wasn't sharing with us. It obviously had something to do with the Sith. We can't exactly trust our friends as much as I thought." She then resumed walking after whispering to Cody, "Don't tell Yeyinde or Nightscream I said that."

Cody looked back to the Maximal bat, now in Beast Mode and the Yautja Hunter who had regained his mask during their raid on the Sith compound.

"You're secret's safe with me," Cody said in a hushed tone as he also began walking again.

He smiled and caught the glimpse of a smile on her unmasked face before she put her Mandalorian helmet back on. That smile was beautiful…Mirta was beautiful. Cody was sure of it now: he was falling for her. He'd go home to put his affairs in order, of course, but he would return here to this galaxy to be with her. He had completely forgotten that she was a wanted woman in Mandalorian Space.

Within a few more minutes, it was dusk and they were in sight of the camp. There were many voices speaking and many lit torches.

When they reached the camp, they saw that Lwothin was standing in the middle of a circle of concerned survivors.

When the P'weck noticed the leaders of his group return, he gestured with his diminutive hands and the circle dispersed.

A Thermidorian passed Cody and gave him a look. "Those squid betrayed us!"

Cody looked at Lwothin, who bowed toward him.

"Lwothin, what's going on?"

Lowthin made a series of short chirps and snarls which LKD-9D9 interpreted as "My master wishes you to know that Uxils did not survive the mission."

Everyone let out collective gasps and several asked the question, "How?"

"It was Darth Shadow's daughter, after we had all shut down the Sith jamming system."

N'thraw'nyusaya felt a twinge of personal responsibility for what her daughter had done. She tightened her face into a scowl which Quoreal Rapuung read correctly. Her daughter deserved death and he agreed. Enough innocent blood had been spilt by the Sith.

Cody was more interested in details than revenge at this point.

"You say she helped you bring down her own group's blocking signal?"

"My Master says that all three of them suspected that there was a larger jamming field covering the entire planet, which Uxils confirmed."

Cody did not even need to ask. Certainty was chiseled into his face.

"The Quintessons." A statement, not a question, though Lwothin felt the need to nod anyway.

Nightscream would have clenched his fists were he in robot mode. _This_ was the reason his message hadn't gotten through. Atrilo had straight up lied to his face.

Suddenly the sound of a shuttle moving through the air caught everyone's attention.

It was a Quintesson shuttle, bearing a resemblance to a corkscrew-shaped Quintesson ship, but on a much smaller scale.

Some of the survivors began to run, others, like Cody and the war party, stood frozen as they pondered what action they should take.

Rukh, grabbing Muni by the hand, ran for the direction of Meewal, his wife, who was looking at the shuttle in confused terror.

The craft hovered over a vacant area in the middle of the beach before it landed. Once it was on the ground those who had run cautiously made their way back to camp, but everyone gave the shuttle a wide berth.

Soon, a door opened on the shuttle's right and a ramp extended. A five-faced Quintesson Judge exited, eliciting gasps from all those present who had never seen a Quintesson of the Magistrate-caste before. Its Face of Laughter was on its forward side.

It proceeded down the ramp while two Scientists followed it. It addressed everyone in a masculine voice.

"Greetings, friends! I am Quintesson Imperial Magistrate Deliberata. We are here to help you."

Before Cody could respond, Nightscream shouted, "Why are you jamming all communications off this planet!"

Deliberata turned his Face of Laughter toward Nightscream.

"It is necessary to keep the Sith on this planet until they are totally destroyed," Deliberata responded in as kind a tone as possible.

Suddenly, something clicked in Mirta's mind. Everything that Atrilo had done had been to hurt the Sith—that could've explained why she was so interested in Shadow's apprentices. If their goal was really to terminate the Sith it made sense to block their communications off planet.

Nightscream did not give Mirta long to rest in her newfound confidence.

"Then why did Atrilo say that I could contact Cybertron if I was outside the Sith's jamming field?"

"Atrilo did not make the decision to raise our jamming field. I did," Deliberata explained. His words soothed Mirta, but only made Cody more suspicious.

"She was already on the planet's surface when I made the decision to raise the field. Judges outrank warriors in our caste system. She had no choice but to comply with my orders after they were given. She was also under orders not to alarm you."

Mirta did feel a twinge of suspicion as the details seemed a little too convenient. Then Deliberata said something that sealed her trust. He shifted so that his Face of Doubt was toward the crowd that by now had encircled his shuttle. "I trust that although Atrilo told you that we solved the problems that the galaxies' premature meeting could pose for heat death…" He shifted to his Face of Death. "We have solved _that_ problem, but there are other ways the Sith could accidentally achieve the same effect with our technology. That is why we are here, to stop them and protect you!" To Mirta's mind, given the Quintessons' past history with Dathomir, this made since. This was her turning point. She decided to trust Deliberata.

 **Quintesson Embassy, Mandalore, The Republic, Four years later**

Mirta's trust in Quintesson justice had paid off immensely. As one of the people who had helped secure Quintesson diplomatic access to the Republic, the Quintessons adopted her as an agent and gave her diplomatic immunity to the murder she had committed on Concord Dawn. She truly owed the Quintessons a debt of gratitude, not for pulling the legal strings that enabled her freedom, but for helping her to see that she had been wrong to feel guilty about the murder in the first place. Her former subordinate officer was a very evil and cruel man that regularly beat his wife. By killing him, Mirta had done a heroic thing. It was especially heroic because the rules of her society considered her, the hero, as a criminal simply because she'd killed someone. Hadn't she killed Yuuzhan Vong before, during the war? However misguided the Vong may have been, at least they were fighting for something they believed in. Hardeen had had no higher cause—he had beat his wife because he had no better way of coping with his PTSD. Mirta had done the galaxy a favor. It had taken Mirta sometime to come around to this way of thinking. What finally convinced her was a matter of debate, even to her. Whether it was the Quintesson ensuring that she never stood trial and would never get closure, or whether it was because it was easier for a guilty conscience to accept never having done wrong in the first place, she would never know. She didn't want to believe it was either, as she valued justice. That's why she loved Quintesson culture: judges had more honor in their society than warriors, and in this ofice she represented the most respected Quintesson judge of all, the Imperial Arbiter Alðerata. That was how Mirta liked to view herself in all the roles she had been in—on the side of justice. Something about that made the fact that she'd killed an unarmed man in cold blood, no matter how evil, a bit more palatable.

Mirta was looking at the Mando'a language translation a statement by the Imperial Arbiter, when a knock sounded on the door. She dispatched one of her Quintesson warrior attendants to open the door—making sure this letter reflected the same emotions in Mando'a that it did in Quintesson was here main priority…until she saw who had knocked on the door.

"Cody!" She stood up immediately.

The two walked toward one another and embraced.

"How is life as a diplomat treating you?" He asked. He much preferred this look for her with the loose fitting clothes and flowing curly hair to the pulled back hair and stolen men's armor that she wore on Dathomir.

"It's an honorable line of work, promoting peace, especially after being a soldier for so long."

"I can imagine," Cody said. Really imagining was all he could do as their time on Dathomir was the closest he had ever come to being a soldier.

"What are you doing on Mandalore?" She asked.

"A business conference. The use of non-droid translators is putting the Republic's protocol droids at risk. I'm here as an advisor and promoter of O'Neil Tech's protocol programs."

She laughed.

"Not really that the Republic needs them. I've seen more protocol droids advise about proper etiquette than actually translate in my time."

"In the Milky Way, they can also serve as butlers, as a primary function."

"Strange, even though that's a secondary function its primarily what they do here."

They both laughed.

"Anyway, I'm in your neighborhood, so I wanted to know if you're free anytime this week, before I leave?"

"I should be free later this evening." She walked back to her desk. "I have to finish going over the wording of this translation of Arbiter Alðerata's request for Quintesson access to Taung historical sites on Mandalore."

Cody arched an eyebrow.

"Why would the Quintessons want access to Taung historical sites?"

"Well, they are responsible for the Taung's separate cultural evolution from the rest of the Yautja. In a way, they created Mandalorian culture."

Cody felt a slight churn in his stomach when Mirta said that.

"They moved people, they didn't do anything besides that."

The Quintessons in the office all glared at Cody. Mirta looked a little surprised.

"They moved people to places they needed to go. The history of our two galaxies would not be the same if they hadn't."

Cody shook his head.

"What?" Mirta asked.

"You're just like him—Uxils. For him it was god, for you it's the Quintessons."

Now Mirta felt insulted. She shouted her response back.

"There are profound differences between him and me. He believed in a supernatural, ageless being who never made mistakes. The Quintessons evolved naturally, long before most species that now inhabit our galaxies. Their technology is objectively more advanced than anyone else's and they have certainly made their share of mistakes and learned from them." She stood. "I'm not like Uxils, I'm like you!"

Cody stepped backward, not believing what he heard.  
"What?!"

"You always said morals came from society but never had an answer when another society's morals differed from yours! Well, the Quintessons are a real society who have been around in the real world for a very long time. They have seen many different societies rise and fall over history. I'm not saying their infallible, but out of all societies, they should have the best ideas on how things should work."

Cody realized in all her arguments, she had never appealed to divine omniscience, but practical experience, which he had to admit, the Quintessons had more of than anyone else. She _was_ thinking like him and he hated it. This was Cody Jones's turning point.

 _Uxils, I wish you were right._


	37. 4-5 Fatherhood

Rukh took a real pleasure in his time as Muni's surrogate father. Sanjay had been his friend for a time, and he was expecting real parenthood for himself in just a few short weeks. The Human boy probably needed someone who had real experience at parenting, but he'd demonstrated a bond with Rukh, and Rukh felt a bond with him. Until they got him back to the Milky Way, where his mother was waiting, Rukh and Meewal were Muni's parents. What skills Rukh lacked in parenthood, maybe his time with Muni would equip him—especially if his child was a boy. He also wanted a daughter to one day be Maitrakh and carry on the family line, but the time he was spending with Muni was reminding him of the skills he could only pass on to a son. A daughter could only learn these things if she was not part of a Maitrakh line as any of his daughters would be.

Right now, the Noghri father and Human son carried makeshift spears as were accompanying the camp's hunter, and the child had endless questions for him.

"Samedi-ji, why does everyone call you 'Yeyinde,' now?" The child asked quietly as he and Rukh—the juvenile Human and adult Noghri being approximately the same height, with the Noghri being a few inches taller—followed the towering Yautja in single file.

Yeyinde looked as if he were staring into the wind for a moment. His face was impossible to read behind his mask. He then turned to look at Muni.

He calmly said, "Baron Samedi is a name I picked up in Haiti, after I destroyed a family the same way Krang destroyed mine. 'Baron Samedi' is the god of the dead in Voodoo. I saw myself and my people's hunting culture only as bringers of death."

"And now?"

Rukh didn't stop Muni as he too was interested in the Yautja's name change.

"I had a chance to take revenge on Krang, and sate my desire for revenge, and be no better than him, or I could make a braver choice—to let go of my anger, my cause for revenge, and live without it defining me. 'Yeyinde' was the name I received after my first hunt. It means 'brave one.'"

Rukh was a bit confused, knitting the skin folds above his eyes. "Why didn't you take your revenge?"

Yeyinde turned back to the path ahead and kept walking, but continued the conversation.

"Claudelle showed me mercy when I had no weapons or armor. I killed her ancestor in Haiti, but she still forgave me. I didn't forgive Krang, but I still knew that treating him as Claudelle had treated me—showing mercy—was the right thing." Those comments didn't sound like what Rukh knew of Samedi, but the next certainly did: "Besides, Krang was unarmed."

They had now reached a point where the forest trail circled into an area of denser woods.

Yeyinde pointed to the wooded area.

"The two of you, stay there. Block the prey's escape." Yeyinde cloaked and ran back the way they came. The 'prey' was a lizard-like creature with boar-like tusks, about the same length as Rukh's height.

Rukh was glad that Muni had come with them, he knew that the boy's religion favored vegetarianism, but the boy's family belonged to a dissenting school. Sanjay had taught him to fish after all.

Still, hunting was a rare experience for Rukh himself. Most Noghri communities were agrarian. Hunting was something done on journeys between communities. Here, it was essential.

The two waited in place, as seconds dragged on into minutes and nearly half an hour before…Rukh heard a gush of wind as he turned his head to see Muni be yanked by invisible strings backwards. It happened now when his guard was at its lowest, focused on the wait of the hunt. Muni was shaking violently, but for some reason the boy didn't scream. He couldn't.

Rukh quickly realized what was going on, and soon saw a Falleen-Chiss hybrid holding the boy.

He realized that he had no weapon other than her own over confidence.

"Rukh-ji!" Muni was finally able to yell.

"Let him go!" He stood firm.

"You have this all wrong. I'm not kidnapping the boy. I'm protecting him. The Quintessons want a powerful Force-user."

That was the key.

"Muni, use the Force!"

Muni gave into the feelings of fear and anger of what the Sith could and would do. He began to choke her, just as Veratil had taught him, but he released her when she let go of him. He then ran to Rukh's side and held him tightly.

Rukh then realized his best way to slay her was with Muni's help, and Muni was too young to take a life for a human. He'd have to rely on his own agility.

"Muni, go back to camp."

The boy voiced his concern for Rukh in a, "But—

Rukh cut the boy off and barked the command, "Go!"

Rukh tensed and did not relax even when the rustling of the branches let him Know Muni was safe. He drew out the knives he held in his gauntlets, as Shadow's daughter bowed her head.

Rukh paused, warily wandering why she wasn't fighting back. If her strategy required her to be quiet and focus, he wouldn't give her that opportunity.

"Well, face me, coward!"

She still didn't move.

"Whatever trick you're planning…" he advanced toward her.

"No trick…" she said in a strained voice. "They boy's back in camp and now the Quintessons know our plan. I've failed."

Rukh paused for a minute, realizing she could be speaking the truth or this could be an elaborate deception.

"I will kill you…"

"Better you than him!" She shouted, for the first time the Sith yellow burning in her eyes.

Rukh knew there was more to that statement. At least part of what she said was true.

"I can't look at my father's eyes again as he hands out punishment. This was my last chance."

While keeping in mind that this could all be an elaborate trap, this Sith could be no more than a Child trying to please her father. He once said N'thraw'nyusaya had the right to kill her daughter, but what about Darth Shadow? He was the one who raised her in the darkness, and now seemed ready to kill her for her failure. He thought about what Yeyinde had told him.

"Run, Sith, where your father can't find you. But if you follow us, or try to harm the boy, I will kill you." Rukh dashed back in the direction of camp, once he noticed the Sith was heading the opposite way.

He ran so fast that he did not notice Deliberata's tentacle until he had tripped on it. He looked up to see Deliberata, Atrilo, and five mechanical beasts with sharp teeth and spikes that resembled fish.

Deliberata jerked his tentacle back and faced Rukh with his Face of Wrath.

"Watch where you're going, you stupid Noghri!"

Rukh swallowed the insult. He had more pressing matters to attend to.

"My pardon, Your Honor. Have you seen Muni, the Human boy?"

"The child who ran past us a few minutes ago? A Sharkticon is taking him back to the camp."

Rukh felt a physical weight drop from his shoulders and breathed a deep sigh of relief.

"He is well then. I should try to find Yeyinde. We were hunting together."

Deliberata swiveled to his face of doubt. "The Yautja? What kind of caretaker are you to bring a human child so near to a Yautja hunter?" Switching back to his Face of Wrath, he asked, "Do you realize how dangerous they are? Are you this boy's guardian?" Deliberata pointed a tentacle at Rukh.

"Yes. And Yeyinde is no threat. Yautja do not hunt children and I trust Yeyinde."

Deliberata switched to his Face of Laughter, chuckled to himself, and then spoke. At first it seemed he was speaking only to himself.

"Oh, you, stupid, stupid, Noghri." He switched back to his Face of Wrath. "Baron Samedi is a Badblood! He doesn't accept normal Yautja conventions of honor! He could've killed the child for the fun of it."

"He wouldn't do that." Rukh rose to his full, albeit diminutive, stature. "He is a Badblood because he thinks that Yautja ways are too cruel. I let the Sith who tried to kidnap Muni go because her own father would kill—

Deliberata turned to his Face of Doubt. "The Sith would kill their own for this child?" He turned his Face of Wrath to Atrilo. "What did you tell them!?"

"Only that we needed the new apprentices."

Rukh looked at Atrilo as if he understood the Quintesson threat for the first time. The Quintessons also recognized Rukh's threat for the first time.

Turning his Face of Wrath to Rukh, Deliberata said, "I charge you with child negligence."

This is ridiculous! Rukh thought.

"Has the imperial magistrate reached a verdict?" Atrilo asked as a member of her caste was required to in a trial.

A verdict? There was no council to debate the matter, no chance for Rukh to speak for himself—what was going on here?

"I have."

"Guilty or innocent?"

Rukh stared at the two, confused the entire time. He thought he was in for a reprieve when the Judge declared him innocent, but that was before he heard Deliberata, now with the Face of Death say, "Feed him to the Sharkticons."

Rukh's sharp reflexes would have saved him any other day, but the bizarre trial had left him confused long enough for a Sharkticon to jump on top of him.

 **Lands of Clan Khim'bar, Honoghr, One year later**

Meewal's entire personality had changed with Rukh's death. The savage teethlike gashes on his body convinced her that then Sith were even more sadistic than she had previously believed and that the overprotective nature she had once scolded Rukh for was exactly what life in the galaxy called for. Trust used to be something she gave freely. She used to believe in people. Not anymore. Trust had to be earned. She fulfilled her duty and kept Muni safe until he could be reunited with his mother on Earth. Those were individuals who she could trust.

She had to be more careful now because she had a son, Khabarakh.

As a male, he could never be Maitrakh, though he could perhaps become the Dynast of another clan. Pressure had been put upon Meewal to marry again and have a daughter, but she refused. Her heirs would be her sister and nieces. She did not want to go through the prospect of whether or not her suitors were marrying her or her position once again. No, she would reign without a Dynast. That meant she would need to learn the skills of stealth that nearly all Noghri knew excluding those in her position. She did know some basic self-defense skills, but the skills she needed took decades to master, and she only had years. Still, she would carve out a path that brought safety and prosperity to clan Khim'bar and to her son.

She also needed off-world allies, and just as the Noghri had served the Empire and the New Republic in the past, she was determined that her clan would establish the Noghri's ties to the new great power—the Quintessons. The Judge, Deliberata, had given her the contact frequency for the Quintesson Imperial Arbiter Alðerata's holoprojector before they left Dathomir. She activated it now in her room in the clan Dukha, her infant in a low wooden cradle just behind her cross-legged position on the floor.

The Imperial Arbiter appeared in hologram. It was hard to judge over a hologram but his body seemed larger than Deliberata's.

"Princess of the Clan Khim'bar," he began, his jovial Face of Laughter to her in an attempt to elicit positive feelings. He switched to his green turbaned Face of Bitterness just long enough to express condolences for her late husband, before returning to his gentler Face of Laughter.

"I must confess that I have been waiting for you to contact me. It is a pleasure to speak to you directly, even if it is only over a hologram."

She slightly inclined her head, the position of a subordinate, before touching her chest with one hand, and holding the other to the Arbiter.

"His Excellency honors me, but I am no princess, merely the next-in-line to be Maitrakh of my clan."

"But you are to rule them one day?"

"To lead them," she corrected. "The duties upon a Mitrach and her clan are reciprocal. And it is for the benefit of my clan that I have contacted you."

"I understand the bond you forged with my justice Deliberata when he was looking for your husband's murderers on Dathomir."

"Then you should be aware that Sizhran Savazh still lives."

Still, affable, he answered, "Yes. He's in the Milky Way now. Retreating into the criminal underworld of Earth's Foot Clan, hiding behind his apprentice who is the Foot's leader."

"I was wondering if Your Excelency would consider hiring Noghri assassins to help you where your Sharkticons fail you, such as infiltrating these underworld groups."

Alðerata smiled. "This idea pleases me. What are your terms?"


	38. 4-6 Chaos Bringer

**Cybertron, Milky Way Galaxy**

Lwothin still could not wrap his mind around Cybertron. Before the Great Reformatting it had essentially been a planetwide city, like Coruscant in his home galaxy. Lwothin had only briefly spent time on Coruscant, but from what he experienced firsthand there and learned here, the similarities between the two planets had ended thirty-one years ago. Optimus Primal had unleashed the power of the Oracle against Megatron in the final battle of the Spark Wars, and the entire planet had turned into a technorganic city-garden.

Buildings still rose thousands of feet, but they were now covered in green chlorophyll-filled skins. The mechanical plasma-based lights were still present, but so were bioluminescent flowers. Those plantlike buildings still maintained internal titanium structures.

The architecture was only half of the story: the trees had visible lines of circuitry, and when Lwothin ran his talon along one and accidentally scratched it, sparks flew. There was truly little distinction between nature and technology on Nightscream's homeworld—or at least, there wasn't anymore.

Lwothin turned his thoughts toward this Oracle, which along with equally mysterious Vector Sigma was supposed to have been a Quintesson computer, but its abilities were beyond any technology he had ever seen, even that of the Quintessons. No, this was the work of Primus, the ancient Force-sensitive Rakaata that he and Uxils had met on Dathomir—the one who had told them about the threat of Unicron.

The Quintessons were still after a powerful Force-sensitive individual to use to activate the transgalactic Force Nexus as per Unicron's original plan. But where to find the ancient Rakata?

He had said only months ago that he needed to be on Cybertron, and the most likely places to look were in the maze of conduits beneath Cybertron's surface, especially in the area of Iocon, the ancestral home of the Autobots and Maximals. Fortunately, Iocon was also Cybertron's capital and the place where Lwothin had been residing for the past several months.

Gazing at the main city in the distance, Lwothin turned his head to notice a still recognizably metallic manhole.

Lwothin snarled in P'weck, "LK, we're going down there."

The minute, cylindrical interpreter droid on his belt set off in alarm, "Master, are you sure?! It's breaking Cybertronian law, and I thought we were reformed now."

"It must be done," Lwothin said resolutely. "There are graver things in motion now. I'm sure Cheetor Prime will understand."

Moving the manhole out of the way, and dragging it back with a claw after him, Lwothin proceed to the lower levels, taking a small light out the left belt pouch. This was where Optimus Primal and his small team of Maximals had hid while Megatron and the Vehicons controlled the surface. The present administration knew better than anyone what dangers lurked here—but Lwothin had a mission. He quickly noted that the passage way he was in looked almost entirely inorganic, as if it had been left untouched by the Great Reformatting.

"Curious, isn't it?" he asked LK.

"That it's not technorganic? Obviously, Master."

"The most purely organic part of the planet is closest to the core. I think I know how to tell what path to take."

After hours of walking through corridors that occasionally had dirt and animal bones, Lwothin finally made it to one chamber that stood out from all the others—he stood on a high brown and green metallic walkway that stood above barren soil below. There was a structure between Lwothin and the opposite wall. It was empty now but seemed as if built to hold a large spherical object. Lwothin tried to imagine just what this object could have been when the room suddenly became lit.

Lwothin spun around. Primus was behind him.

"Welcome to Cybertron, Lowthin," the Rakata said.

Lwothin did not know what title would be appropriate to address Primus with, as, contrary to Cybertronian beliefs, the Rakata was not a god, but he technically had no royal or official rank either. He chirped out a message anyway.

"My Master says that he wishes he had come under different circumstances. The wormhole is stable now. Ships can enter or leave it at any time. Our enemies have the advantage."

"They usually do," Primus said. "Do you know what this room is?"

Lwothin looked around before shaking his head, a gesture that he learnt meant "no" to Maximals and Predacons.

"This is the Oracle Chamber, where the Oracle gave Optimus Primal the visions to restore nature to Cybertron at a time when the second Megatron controlled the entire planet and all its sparks. The odds definitely seemed to be on Megatron's side."

Primus's larger point was not lost on Lwothin, but his curiosity had been aroused by a lesser detail.

"My Master wishes to know, what are the Oracle and Vector Sigma?"

"Quintesson computers that I reprogramed."

Lwothin felt disappointed.

"My Master doesn't understand how a computer could radically alter a planet's surface in so short a time."

Primus folded his hands. "The Oracle didn't. The Matrix did, and only because of certain actions taken by Megatron and Optimus Primal. I have worked the Matrix very well yet cannot describe it. Every Cybertronian spark is connected to it and yet it has a will and intelligence of its own. Restoring the organic to Cybertron was the will of the Matrix—to what end I do not know."

"Is this the Higher Power you spoke of?" LK translated.

"No, for the true Higher Power is not limited to one planet as the Matrix is to Cybertron. The Matrix is more a guardian and care-taker than a creator, anyway. To my knowledge it never had unlimited power, nor ever stepped down from it to live among its creations."

Lwothin nodded, not sure whether the Cybertronians were fortunate to have something higher than themselves or unfortunate to have this Higher Power Primus spoke of obscured behind so many other beings. He returned his mind to the topic of his meeting.

"My Master wishes to know, why things aren't bleak when the Quintessons have everything they need?"

Primus shook his head, "Once again, the Quintessons are merely the executors of the Chaos Bringer's plans and he currently cannot achieve what he wants."

The tense confused Lwothin.

"Forgive me, but my Master was under the impression that Unicron was dead."

"Unicron, yes, but not the Chaos Bringer. It is a position more than a person, though because of Unicron's actions, a certain amount of personality transfer has become involved. There is much I have to tell you."

 **Cybertron, 2006 A.D. on Earth's Gregorian Calendar**

The hour of Starscream's vengeance was close at hand. Megatron, or Galvatron as he now called himself, had destroyed Starscream's body nearly a year before as his first act in his new form. However, unbeknownst to the Decepticon leader to whom Starscream had spent millions of years as a second-in-command, the jet had a mutant indestructible spark. It had traveled to prehistoric earth in the past year and interacted with Autobot and Decepticon descendants including a second Megatron, and now had returned to his own time to make a deal with the one being who could restore his body—the same being who had turned a near dead Megatron into Galvatron—the planet-devourer Unicron.

Starscream was not the only one to have lost a body. All that remained of Unicron was the horned and bearded head of his gigantic robot form. At this moment Starscream's spark was possessing the Decepticon dinosaur/city Trypticon, using the massive body to connect chords to link Unicron's head to the planet Cybertron. Suddenly, as he was ready to make the connection, Starscream lost control of Trypticon. It had to be the work of Decepticon saboteurs inside of Trypticon—no matter, Starscream could turn this to his advantage.

Decrying, "I can't control him anymore!" Starscream's spark left Trypticon's body, leaving the larger Transformer temporarily dazed.

Starring Unicron directly in the eyes, he said, with the full confidence of certainty, "Unicron, if you want the connection made, you'd better give me a new body now!"

Unicron gave commands, he did not take them, but he knew the reality of the situation.

"You shall have it!"

Green beams from Unicron's eyes restored Starscream's robot form.

"I live again!" The Decepticon jet cheered hapilly.

"Now, do my bidding. Complete the connection!" Unicron, however, had lost his leverage. He still needed Starscream, but Starscream no longer needed him.

Letting the chords fall to the ground, Starscream laughed, "Do it yourself!"

Soon an explosion sent both Unicron and Starscream flying outside Cybertron's thin atmosphere. Unicron knew that he would not likely have another chance to take Cybertron for his body, or to be a world devourer again. Not even his allies, the Quintessons, trusted him with that power. No matter, after millions of years imprisoned in that husk he wanted a body more like his original—it would be better if it were organic and Force Sensitive—but he could take such a form later. He released his own spark and entered Starscream who was being fired at by Galvatron as he tumbled through space.

Suddenly Starscream noticed that Galvatron had disappeared and he had stopped spinning. Unicron in his full robotic body floated opposite to Starscream—but his body was much smaller than it should be—the same size as Starscream's own.

"Where are Galvatron and his toadies, and more importantly, why are you whole and in my size?"

Unicron laughed.

"We are not in space. We are inside your body. You betrayed me, Starscream, just as you betrayed your former master, time and time again. You have cost me my last chance to devour worlds but you have provided me with something much more valuable…something I thought lost forever."

Unicrons eyes glowed bright green.

Starscream listened to what Unicron was saying: they were inside his spark, he would provide Unicron with something he'd thought lost forever—

"You want my body!"

"You cost me mine and now I will take the one I gave you!"

Unicron flew at Starscream with a hand ready to slash into him, when something pushed him back…something from _inside_ Starscream.

"How do you resist me?" Unicron growled.

Suddenly Starscream realized something.

"Your spark isn't immortal, is it?"

Unicron scowled but said nothing.

"Mine cannot be destroyed, it needs no body. But _yours_ ," Starscream sneered, "Without your precious world-devouring body, you have no power at all. Everything you did required your body, didn't it?"

Unicron wanted to incinerate this arrogant Decepticon with a blast from his eyes, and he did, bu this too was deflected.

"So, you _do_ have some powers after all."

This taunted further incensed Unicron. His power was not in question here. He had destroyed trillions of lives over millions of years to sustain his existence. He had forged the Quintesson Empire by transforming a group of desperate Cephalopods into super-intelligent cyborgs. He had remade Megatron into the deadlier Galvatron. Unicron's powers were not in question.

The question was Starscream and his mutant spark. A legitimate question that Unicron could not ignore. Never had he encountered a Cybertronian whose spark would not move on, but that was precisely what Starscream was.

"Only one of us can be the consciousness in your spark. I will fight you with all that I have and you shall fight me with all that you. The strongest shall become you."

Unicron rushed at Starscream again. Starscream was a coward by nature, but knew that he had no choice this time. The Decepticon met the Chaos Bringer head on and lightning flashed. Where there had been two forms in this mystical plain before, now there was one. Starscream's form floated calmly until another flash of lighting revealed Unicron's scaled-down body with Starscream breaking through. His arm in a defensive position. Another flash and Starscream twisted violently, Unicron all but disappearing. Another flash and Stascream was back in physical space. But he felt memories that were not his own, and a confidence that was entirely Unicron's.

Galvatron was still firing at him, but the fool was not following him. Starscream looked back to see his former leader leaving. He flew toward him and called out, "You have failed spectacularly, Galvatron!"

The Decepticon leader turned back.

"What do you dare say, traitor?"

Starscream smiled, "'Traitor,' I like that word. I've betrayed Unicron, something you tried to do and failed!"

Galvatron started to charge his plasma cannon, when Starscream said, "Relax, Galvatron. I have no further desire to overthrow you. My ambitions are now far larger than leading the Decepticons. I'll leave that to you. I've taken Unicron's place."

"You're insane!" The Decepticon leader said.

"It's not nice to throw stones in a glass house, Galvatron. Now if you'll excuse me I have schemes to plot."

The first of those schemes had to do with this other galaxy from which Unicron seemed to originate and this mysterious planet called Dathomir…


	39. 4-7 Machinations of Evil

AN: From what I've learned From Star Wars Reading Club on Youtube, Grand Admiral Thrawn joined the Empire to protect the Chiss from invaders from outside of known space in the new canon. This sounds a lot like the Yuuzhan Vong. Maybe I overshot things with a Republic-Yuuzhan Vong war taking place 100 years after episode seven, but I don't see them becoming a main threat to the rest of the galaxy until the First Order is taken care of.

 _I was right to want that monster dead!_ N'thraw'nyusaya thought as a group made up of Cody, Mirta, Yeyinde, Nightscream, Quorreal, Deliberata, Atrilo, and most importantly, Meewal looked at Rukh's body just outside of camp.

"They're animals!" Meewal said. The pregnant Noghri knelt on one knee and ran a finger along the jagged indentions on her husband's body.

"Lightsabers didn't do this!"

"The Sith acolyte has a deep connection to the Dark Side. When we found her, she was influencing the local fauna to…" Deliberata's Face of Wrath was toward Meewal. As his tone became more somber, he switched to his Face of Bitterness and put a tentacle on Meewal's shoulder. It was cold and lifeless, but she appreciated the Judge's intended kindness.

"To…devour your husband. We startled her and she ran, but we were too late to save him," the Judge finally continued.

Meewal's rage was equaled only by N'thraw'nyusaya's. She had been stranded on the planet for years, used by Darth Shadow for breeding purposes, and the result of what the Sith Lord had done to her was now responsible for this most barbaric murder when all the Noghri had done was protect a Human boy from the Sith's clutches.

"I will kill her, personally. She is my problem."

Meewal looked at the Chiss. It was something that Rukh would say and she'd disagree with…only he wasn't there to disagree with her now, and the Sith who had done this to him was a grown woman.

"You _should_ be the one to do it," Meewal said.

Quoreal stepped nearer to the two in conversation.

"I will go too. The Force is blind to the Yuuzhan Vong, so I can help you if things get unmanageable."

Thrawn simply nodded.

Deliberata switched to his Face of Doubt. "You can't be serious! She fled from our squad of Sharkticons! Atrilo and I are the best candidates for this mission by far, especially since we are the only ones who know what is fully at stake!"

Immediately all the old suspicions that Cody, Nightscream, Yeyinde, and Quoreal had of the Quintessons returned, though, to be fair, for most of them, they had never gone away.

"I'm an experienced hunter," Yeyinde said. "Those wounds are teeth marks, but my mask recognizes the bite signature. Rukh was killed by Sharkticons."

Everyone looked at Yeyinde and began arguing. Cody and Nightscream supported him, but everyone else shouted insults at him—everyone except Quoreal who felt as though he straddled two worlds.

"You dare accuse a Quintesson Magistrate of murder?" Deliberata asked the Yautja.

Nightscream, offend that Deliberata even asked such question, responded angrily, "Why not? That's what you do in all your trials no matter what the verdict is!"

"Shut up, Nightscream!" The voice came from Mirta. "How can you even expect us to believe that would kill someone they found innocent? Until today, everything you said about the Quintessons was understandable, if wrong. Now, you're just making things up!"

"No," Cody said in a calm voice. "He isn't."

Quoreal whispered to N'thraw'nyusaya, "We have to get to your daughter before the Quintessons."

The Chiss simply nodded.

* * *

Darth Shadow tried to extend his consciousness, setting aside his rage at the Quintessons' destruction of his base and hand. Rage could fuel his powers, but it also made him see things too quickly. He needed calm to sort out what he learned about his enemies. He could determine that his enemies were on the surface now and that…

"Sura! The fool!"

"Sensei?" Darth Shredder asked, surprised by his master's sudden eruption into angry speech after hours of silent meditation.

"My daughter has created a disturbance at the survivors' camp which has drawn our true enemies' attention."

Shredder then remembered something from his own meditation.

"This cave is no longer safe!" Shredder said.

Shadow inclined his intact arm on his raised knees. "They can't enact their endgame without a strong Force-user, so they can't kill us. They need me to train you and they need you for their plans. We cannot at present leave the planet, but they cannot precede yet either." Shadow assumed a different posture and folded his legs. "The best option is the one they least expect: we surrender and help them."

Shredder stood up and took a step backward. "You mean give up?" The notion disgusted him, and it did not match the Darth Shadow he had come to know over the past few weeks.

"I said no such thing, you fool. As I said, they need us and I want to take advantage of that."

 _That_ sounded more familiar.

"We will get the Quintessons' attention by launching my Star Viper and flying to the mainland. There will be no stranded civilians there to interfere with their plans or ours. I may have lost this island, but this is all _my_ planet."

Shredder was still not buying this plan.

"So, we head to neutral territory and then make an offer of surrender? Great plan, except these are the Quintessons we're dealing with. They know how to push you to emotional extremes—they'll want me all right, but you are an inconvenience to them, Sensei. They'll suspect your training—

Shadow cut into the middle of Shredder's dismissal.

"I'll submit to only training you when a Quintesson observer is present, and the skills I'll be teaching you the skills you need to survive. These are the same ones that the Quintessons want. They need you strong, and your strength will enable you to escape and continue the Sith legacy."

Shredder stared at Shadow, not liking where his sensei was going. He did not relish the thought of training in a Quintesson jail cell.

Shadow read the look on Shredder's face correctly. He scoffed.

"Really, my young apprentice you give our Cephalopod friends too much credit. They were driven off Cybertron by their own creations, thwarted by the Humans, and defeated on multiple occasions by Yautja and your own Triceratons. They've yet to face a Sith."

Suddenly, a voice called out, "Sizhran Savazh, face us now!"

* * *

Deliberata's unexpected cry caught Thrawn and Quoreal's attention. The Yuuzhan Vong warrior was fairly sure they were lost, but now looking through the trees on the hill overlooking the two Quintessons, the fifteen Sharkticons, and the Chiss prisoner, he knew that they were exactly where they wanted to be.

"They have your daughter," he whispered as he crouched next to Thrawn at the treeline.

"Quiet," she snapped. Her focus was on the Quintessons and their machines. She then a purple gash on her daughter's cheek. Everyone knew that enough battle droids could overpower a Force—user, but one so skilled that she could control animals? This was not adding up.

Darth Shadow exited the cave. It may have just been the distance, but Thrawn could make out no signs of worry on her opponent's face. How could he be so calm with his daughter's life on the line?

The Sith Lord bowed to the Magistrate.

"Greetings, Excellency. I was hoping to speak to a Judge, considering what your Warrior did to my arm. My survival clearly depends on pleasing the Supreme Arbiter. I understand that you need a powerful Force-user. I can provide you with one, but raw power can only take you so far. My apprentice needs to be trained."

So, the Quintessons did want a powerful Force-user after all.

"But that's just the problem. _Your_ apprentice will be loyal to you. We can extract the power we need by the right amount of physical stress. We don't really need _you_. In fact, you've already hurt our credibility with the vertebrates on the beach. They have already begun to suspect what we really want thanks to this idiot," Deliberata pointed to Atrilo.

Thrawn felt her stomach drop. Her daughter hadn't killed Rukh after all. All of this, from the beginning, had been part of the Quintessons' plan—everything except what Shadow had done to her.

Thrawn then noticed Deliberata shift faces. "You obviously don't want to die, and unless you are unspeakably cold, you don't want us to try your daughter either. I _will_ make a deal with you: the Triceraton for your daughter. She has been charged with the murder of a male Noghri, but we could let her go in exchange for the Shredder. He has _real_ crimes on his record."

This was too much. Whatever else she may have done she was innocent of this at least. N'thraw'nyusaya stood, deaf to all that Quoreal was saying as he also stood. He pulled her left foot backwards and she fell to the ground. She stared angrily at Quoreal.

"They'll kill you," he whispered.

No, they were distracted now. That should give her a chance with what they were saying.

"An unguided laser is a dangerous thing. Response to pain alone can't get you what you want from my apprentice."

"Enough!" Deliberata screamed. "Our 'laser' will be perfectly focused with instruments in our care. I offer you a choice again: you can be a father or a Sith Lord—you can't be both!"

"I _am_ the Sith, you wretched cyborg."

"Ah, well, I tried."

"Has the Imperial Magistrate reached a verdict?" Atrilo asked.

"I have."

"Guilty or innocent?"

"Innocent."

Thrawn grabbed a rock and hit Quoreal on the head, giving her a head start.

"Let my daughter go!" Thrawn came running down the slope.

Atrilo and the Sharkticons turned to look at her, but Deliberata kept his death face focused on Shadow, just in time to see Shredder emerge from the cave. He then toggled his optical interface see through his rearward face.

"Shoot both Chiss and have the Sharkticons transform to robot form."

One blast from Atrilo took care of Thrawn and another ended Sura.

Darth Shadow should have been angry enough to kill the two Quintessons with Force lighting, only he wasn't angry. He was paralyzed with shock. He still had not regained his senses when Shredder Force-pushed the Sharkticons into one another and picked him up.

 **Sigma Pavonis VII, Milky Way Galaxy, A Few Weeks later**

The Quintesson enclave in this planet's equatorial zone was still young by their standards, but Alðerata had established their presence here just days before giving the order for Quintessa's self-destruction. In that sense, the Supreme Arbiter thought, it was the oldest settlement the Quintessons now had.

Alðerata chose this location as his personal because its coastal location and humid climate reminded him of their real home on Ðaraal so long ago. He opened the window to let the warm breeze from the coast. Unlike other Judges, the Supreme Arbiter's dermal sensors were as accurate as organic nerve cells. He had always been Unicron's favorite Quintesson.

His Face of Laughter was still facing the window when he noticed the Shadow in the mirror on the table.

"I've been expecting you," He said through his Face of Doubt.

"Yes, your minions failed," Shadow said as he walked forward, his black and white face becoming visible.

"Did they?"

"I'm alive, the Shredder is my Apprentice, and you have made an enemy out of one who could have been your ally." Shadow tried to exude as much intimidation as possible but the Imperial Arbiter seemed unfazed.

"From what you said, my minions succeeded. You stabilized the wormhole, Shredder is still being trained for what we need, and you are going to be training him more intensely to get your desired vengeance."

Shadow barred his teeth, yellowed from the effects of extensive Dark Side use.

"You killed my daughter before she had a chance to prove herself worthy. Because of you she will never be the One Sith!"

"According to Deliberata's report, she got in the way, like the Noghri, and was dealt with accordingly." Alðerata shifted to his Face of Bitterness. "If she had been better trained," he paused and said in an incriminating tone, "by someone who wasn't here father—

"I never went easy on her! I was harder on her specifically because she was my daughter!"

"Perhaps you were _too_ hard then. In any event, her training failed."

Shadow breathed raggedly, frustrated that he couldn't shatter the link between Alðerata, and his clones, and thereby, kill him.

Alðerata bobbed his massive mantel. "I know the Sith, you know: who you've been, what you've been. You took everything you have from the Rakaata."

Darth Shadow paused for a minute. The Rakaata were thought by many to be only a legend….but the Quintessons were old enough to know. But that was the past.

"The Rakaata couldn't save themselves, and neither will the Quintessons."

Alðerata switched to his Face of Laughter and bobbed his mantle happily, "And yet, you are doing our biding even now."

"And you are doing the biding of a disgraced Decepticon air commander!" Shadow violently stepped forward and gazed into Alðerata's artificial eyes. "He certainly doesn't have the Quintessons' best interests at heart."

Alðerata laughed and switched to his Face of Death.

"We serve Unicron, not Starscream. The Decepticon may have the essence of the Chaos Bringer for now, but that will soon change. Now since you can't kill me, get out, and get back to training the only one the you, Starscream, and myself have a common interest in!"


	40. 4-8 The Scramble

The Falleen and Triceraton Sith Lords were gone, and the corpses of two Chiss lay on the ground. Deliberata stared intently at the elder Chiss's body with his Face of Death. The Vong went with her, he remembered that clearly. Where was he?

"Atrilo!" Deliberata bellowed without moving.

"Yes, Magistrate?" The warrior anticipated that her superior had something to scold her for.

"Ignore the Sith for now."

Atrilo said nothing, but Deliberata was silent waiting for a response. When he got none, he turned toward her with his Face of Death. "The Sith can't go anywhere! We'll get them later Our main threat is the Vong that was working with this…thing!" He pointed to the elder Chiss.

"Very well, Magistrate."

She faced the Sharkticons who were now all in robot form.

"Search throughout the forest for a Yuuzhan Vong life sign and destroy him."

One by one, the Sharkticons, possessing only the most rudimentary form of intelligence, growled their assent.

Once the Sharkticons were on their way, Deliberata spoke again, still keeping his Face of Death in Atrilo's direction, for he had just made a command decision. "We are returning to the beach. We have damage control to do. If the Hutt, Utrom, and Republic vertebrates piece together what we are trying to accomplish, our situation will become more difficult."

Atrilo struck her chest with her green organic tentacles. She understood very well that they needed friends in the Republic once permanent travel between the two galaxies was possible. If the Vong informed them of what had just transpired, then no one would trust them and they would have to kill all the survivors—which would bring them back to square one in establishing a rapport with the Republic and the Hutt Kajidics. This would not be an insurmountable task, but it was always best to conserve the resources one had cultivated. Fortunately, they had goodwill agents in the vertebrate camp.

"It is good that Inquiriata and Hexato are assisting the newborn Utrom and Noghri mother with their medical needs."

Not bothering to change faces to suit his mood, Deliberata simply said, "We are especially fortunate that the rank-obsessed Mandalorian sees us as the way to cement her own power. We must return to the beach to consolidate our hold and check on our latest puppet."

The two began the trek through the woods to the beach, but Deliberata did not stop speaking.

"One has to wonder, why she will not listen to the people who know us best about our justice system."

Atrilo had spent enough time going over strategy with Mirta that she knew the human cared about those under her command and was not stupid.

"She will want an explanation, when her rivals are powerless."

"I'll handle the matter. Fortunately. we can trust the Scientists on this mission."

"Understood, Magistrate."

As the Scientists—originally the Workers in the era when Judges still held both scientific and legal authority—had the lowest rank of the three main castes they were naturally the most critical of the caste system and the justice system. Fortunately for the Judge and Warrior, the two on the beach still believed in the superiority of Quintessons over all lifeforms.

* * *

"Please, Shalx. This formula is good for your baby," Inquiriata pleaded with the Utrom mother as he held a tiny plastic bottle containing a blue liquid.

"You trapped us here, why should I trust you?" She held her squealing baby close with her tentacles.

Setting the bottle down on a rock, Inquiriata raised his tentacles as he made comments.

"One: _If_ we went to all this trouble to get you here, why would we hurt you? And two: Quintesson don't hurt their own kind when they can help it. We're both cephalopods."

With that comment Inquiriata drew a question from behind him.

"What about vertebrates?"

He looked back to see Mirta Rau and Cody Jones approaching him. It was the female who spoke.

"We don't go out of our way to hurt anyone without cause," Inquriata said carefully.

It wasn't as clear or as confident an answer as Mirta would've hoped, but it didn't sound any more evil than most governments—certainly not the Empire or the First Order.

"Please," Cody said sternly, "Explain what 'innocent' means in a Quintesson trial?"

Inquiriata felt a twinge of unease. Cody and Shalx knew fully well the answer to the question and could counter most of what he said—but—he glanced at Mirta, too quickly for her to notice—he had to make a good impression on the Republic.

"It is true that we often execute individuals found innocent of the crimes they are charged with, but they are always individuals who have records being security risks to the Quintesson species."

Mirta blanched and the Scientist could tell he was fumbling. He looked Mirta in the eye and spoke to her directly.

"Your Maximal friend, Nightscream, no doubt told you many things about us."

"Mostly unpleasant," Mirta said as she hoped the Scientist said something that she could dismiss the Milky Way people's comments with. He succeeded.

"Did Nightscream also tell you that his people and mine have been in more or less a state of war for the past twelve million years?"

"No," Mirta said.

With that one short word Cody's jaw dropped. He looked Mirta in the eyes.

"Mirta, haven't you heard what Nightscream said?"

She looked at Cody, not being able to understand why this man she loved had such a narrow view on the Quintessons and that he would take the word of someone as untrustworthy as Nightscream, the Maxamal who'd removed Cody from command and said they couldn't leave the planet and got proven wrong over one of the Quintessons' own Scientists.

"Cody, he said they fought for freedom from the Quintessons, never that they had been in a continuous war. That makes anything that he says about them biased." Then Mirta felt it, her respect for Cody dwindle. His moral compass was broken.

"I just hope you don't start defending the Sith."

* * *

"All my work with her, to make her the best…wasted!" Darth Shadow slashed his hand in fury. "All that potential…unfulfilled!"

He fired a red torrent of Force Lightning into a nearby tree, causing its branches to fall and the trunk to smoke.

Darth Shredder could clearly tell that his master was upset that his daughter would never finish her training, but he heard nothing about the loss of her for herself.

"Is that really all she meant to you?" he asked.

Shadow turned to face his apprentice, grimacing.

"There was a reason I brought a female Chiss of the Grand Admiral's bloodline here. Sura was a project long before she was a person, and meant more to the Sith as a project—a project which has now failed thanks to our cybernetic invaders!"

Shredder wasn't satisfied.

"Such was her value to the Sith. What about her value to you?" The Triceraton regretted asking as soon as the words left his beak. He felt his throat constrict and his body levitate as the Dark Lord formed a vice with his long fingers.

"I _am_ the Sith!" He pulled Shredder directly in front of him so that their eyes met. "Never forget that!" He dropped his hand and Shredder fell to the ground.

"My daughter saw you as a threat, one who stood in her way of becoming the one Sith. I still resent you for this, so your training will be painful." Shredder was back on his feet and ready to lash out when Shadow shouted him down, "Be statisfied with pain, because pain is strength!"

Shredder simply nodded, realizing that Sura had been more than a pawn to his Master, though Shadow would never admit it. His thoughts were interrupted when the two Sith Lords heard a rustling in the bushes. In a moment Quoreal Rapuung emerged from the forest.

"What do you want, Vong?" Shredder asked.

"The same thing you do: to stop the Quintessons. I heard everything Deliberata said to you. I have come to regard them as a greater evil than the Sith."

The gears began to turn behind Shadow's eyes and the Sith Lord stroked his chin.

"Why have you not returned to your own group to let them know of the Quintesson's treachery?"

Quoreal shook his head. "Everyone from the Republic is following the lead of the Mandalorian Mirta Rau, and embracing Deliberata as the community's de facto leader."

"And the Maximal and Yautja are alright with this?" Shadow couldn't see that in light of what Cody and Krang had told him of Milky Way history.

"Mirta won't trust anything Nightscream says because she blames him for taking power from Cody more than a month ago. She wasn't present, but I was. He neither asked for nor wanted leadership. Cody forced it on him."

"And why haven't Cody, Nightscream, and the Predator taken control back from the wayward Mandalorian?"

Quoreal contorted his face into what must have been a gesture of disbelief and disgust.

"How can you ask that question after you killed two of us and kidnapped three of us? Deliberata has promised to wipe you out!"

Shadow scoffed, looked sideways, and waved his hand, but conceded that the Yuuzhan Vong had a point. With everything that he had done, he had created a population that wanted him dead—half of whom knew nothing of the Quintessons' own bloody history. Still a question remained.

"Why haven't you returned to your friends to tell them that Deliberata killed the Chiss and Noghri? That should rally the Human, Maximal, and Yautja to your side?"

"There have been many power grabs and betrayals in our community's short history," Quoreal said as he glared at the Shredder.

The Triceraton immediately went on the defensive.

"Ever since my future master revealed my identity, I've been pretty honest."

Quoreal slowly walked toward Shredder, and jabbed his fist into Shredder's upper abdomen. The Sith apprentice stepped back and growled.

"Fine," Shredder huffed, "I organized a mob to take control of the Quintesson science station with the aim to kill Nightscream, and lead everyone into a trap at the Sith compound, but you forget Quoreal, that you're the one who tried to lead a mob to execute Mirta and charged Yeyinde with stranding us here—back when he was the Baron."

Quoreal grimaced.

"I'll admit that some of my decisions have been poor, compromised by emotion, but I never actually deceived anyone."

Shredder laughed.

"We were all deceiving everyone during the heat death scare."

Quoreal tried to think of a comeback, but Shadow raised his hand to silence them.

"Gentlemen, please, this bickering can wait until our larger issues have been resolved."

"I couldn't agree more," a high pitched nasal voice said.

A metallic giant walked toward them, paralyzing Shadow and Quoreal. Shredder knew the form well from the historical archives, and he knew that this being was either their best chance or their worst nightmare.

"Decepticon Air Commander Starscream," Shredder said, "how and why are you here?"

Shadow wanted to talk to this key player from the Milky Way, but decided to let his apprentice handle it and put his arm on Quoreal's chest to remind the Vong to keep silent.

"I have long wanted to meet you, Darth Shredder. I was the one who did it, you know."

Shredder simply arched the ridge above his eye.

"Krang—I told the Quintessons to use him, but you are really the one I'm after."

The Quintessons took orders from a Decepticon—that was unbelievable—but so too was the fact that Starscream was here on Dathomir.

"Why would they listen to you?"

"Well, they want Unicron's memories, which I have. But I certainly haven't told them everything. I know his ultimate plan, a plan that requires a powerful fully-trained Force-user." Starscream pointed to Shredder and then to Shadow. "That's you, _after_ he gets through with you."

"And why should we trust one like you, Starscream?" Shadow asked.

The Decepticon bored into the Sith with his laser red eyes.

"Because Shadow, we are a lot alike. Neither of us can settle for being second."


	41. 4-9 Stability

"No!"

Muni's heart pounded in his chest and he was sweating profusely. Meewal noticed her ward's discfomrt and embraced him tenderly.

"Muni, what's wrong?"

Muni remained silent for a minute as his heart slowed to a steady rhythm and the adrenaline surged died down. He then looked into Meewal's concerned eyes, and felt her cool motherly hand on his cheek. He trusted her.

"Meewal-ji, I had what the Sith called a Force vision. A powerful evil has come here. It set something off in me."

Meewal put both hands around the Human boy from the other galaxy. If he sensed it only now, it had to be the Quintessons and not the Sith—the Quintessons who were helping her with her pregnancy. Did they kill Rukh after all? Meewal dreaded to ask, but forced herself to hesitantly utter, "Muni, do you mean the Quintessons?"

The boy shook his head.

"No, I felt it because it was powerful, beyond the Quintessons, and it just arrived."

Meewal held him closer, and let out a breathy sigh. It was the Sith and not their new allies after all.

She let the boy go and looked into his eyes, noticing that anxiety had not completely gone away.

She cupped her hand around his chin.

"The Sith always lose, you know?"

He looked away, trying to keep her from seeing the anguish on his face.

"What is it, Muni?"

His face was lined with stressed.

"Everyone wants to blame the Sith or the Quintessons, but what I sensed was beyond either of them, and it just got hear when I sensed it."

Meewal suddenly felt her chest grow heavy. If there was a third power at play that eclipsed everyone, they were all in danger. It only made since in her mind that it had something to do with the Quintesson warnings about heat death, and also that the Quintessons—the beings with the most history with the wormhole who were here at exactly the same time that this greater threat arrived-they had to know what was really going on, but their story kept changing. If they were not the great threat themselves, they certainly did not trust the inhabitants of the Republic to handle it—there! Meewal had found it!

The Quintessons and the other species needed to work together, to trust one another. That was how they were going to win.

She looked at Muni. The boy was highly attuned to the Force. Were this his galaxy, he would make an excellent Jedi. Playfully, the female Noghri ruffled the young Human's hair, bringing a smile to his face. She smiled back.

He noticed the hope beaming from her eyes.

"What is it?" His tone cautiously tried to catch up with her hope.

"We _will_ win, because we will _trust_ each other. Us, the Quintessons, we'll work together."

Muni looked confused.

"Cody and Deliberata don't trust each other. Nightscream can't trust Deliberata."

"It doesn't matter," Meewal said. "They all trust me."

The Maitrakh's daughter left the tent and confidently approached Mirta, Cody, and Inquiriata. The three were bickering about something, so she stood diagonally to them. Her voice came loud and clear from a distance and forced the three to look away from each other.

"All of you listen to me!"

She felt the eyes of not just her three targets but the entire beach rested on her. Good. They all needed to hear this. Moving her eyes to look at the various species and individuals on the beach, she began her address.

"Muni has just felt a great disturbance in the Force, and since he and I have lost more on this planet than anyone else, I implore you all to heed my words. This disturbance has just arrived on Dathomir in the past few minutes, therefore it cannot be Sith or Quintesson. I know that the Quintessons have been changing their story consistently, but I choose to believe that is because you didn't think us capable of handling this true enemy. We may not be ready, but we cannot trust in your plan if you do not trust in us as well."

Inquiriata struggled for a response and became nervous when Hexato did the very thing he feared most: she told the truth.

"Yes, there is a great evil here. For our plan to stop the heat death of the universe we need the spark of the Chaos Bringer, Unicron—it was his spark that the Earth boy sensed," she said before Nightscream cut her off, and Lowthin tensed at the name that Primus had told him and Uxils in the cave.

"Unicron is here?" He stressed the Chaos Bringer's name.

"No, he is long dead, but a Decepticon who was our prisoner has subsumed his spark into his own. He must have escaped and joined with the Sith."

This was exactly what Primus said would happen.

The P'weck whistled frantically and his droid translated, "My Master says that this is our most pressing concern!"

Nightscream could actually believe this. The Quintessons were the most dangerous sentient species, but Unicron had the power of a god. It would make sense for them to want to use his spark in a project he'd heard their recordings mention time and time again. Only one question worried him.

"How did this Decepticon escape?"

"I honestly have no idea," the female Scientist said. "We needed his spark, but only a Quintesson could have deactivated the security lock to his cell. But I have no idea which one."

Everyone began whispering. Nightscream noticed that Yeyinde had moved closer. The towering Hunter was a mountain of anxiety that matched Nightscream's own.

"Do you buy that?" he whispered.

"That they need Unicron's spark for their plans to get rid of heat death? Sure. That they lost control of it? Possible. That we should trust them when they get it back? Absolutely not."

With the entire beach staring at her and Inquiriata, Hexato pondered certain things for herself: the Supreme Arbiter himself had commanded them to bring Starscream along—he was quite insistent upon it. Only Deliberata had a full briefing of the Supreme Arbiter's exact orders. Had Deliberata set Starscream loose? Was it in the Arbiter's plan?

Cody couldn't read the emotions on the Quintessons' metallic face, but he could see how nervous their twitching tentacles were.

"What is it?" He said in a loud but calm voice. "If this being is really that dangerous, we need to work together—no more secrets." Then, more softly, "Let us help you."

Mirta who had been so critical of Cody a moment ago, suddenly remembered all the times that Cody had been the voice of reason when the camp was at each other's throats, the figure who had restored stability—their leader.

Hexato turned to face Cody directly, "We never intended for him to escape. We were going to bring him here, but not as a free agent."

Mirta spoke up, for the first time seeing how knowledge of the Milky Way could be useful.

"Who was Unicron?"

Hexato looked at the Mandalorian. "A powerful entity that devoured immense amounts of matter, entire worlds and their inhabitants, but who could also use the resulting energy to recreate matter as he saw fit. He was not a 'good' being as most sentients would define the term but he had his useful moments. Our cybernetic bodies and cloning system are Unicron's design."

That was an amazing concession on the Quintesson's party. They had essentially admitted to working with a sentient Death Star. Mirta had only one question.

"Why did your ancestors work with such a being?"

"It wasn't our _ancestors_ , it was _us_. No Quintesson has died since then, and if you had to choose between an organic life cycle where sexual reproduction killed you and abstinence meant you could live for centuries watching generations of family come and go you would have agreed to any offer from any being!" Hexato screamed that at everyone including Mirta who had been her erstwhile ally.

"Everyone thinks we are evil, we were just desperate." The female Quintesson said softly.

"Has something happened?" A panicked but commanding voice demanded. Deliberata and Atrilo had just arrived on the beach. The Judge's neutral Face of Doubt greeted the crowd.

"The Sith eluded us, but something has obviously happened here."

Cody once again assumed the mantle of leadership and said, "The Decepticon carrying Unicron's spark is loose on Dathomir."

Deliberata looked at Cody long and hard before switching to his Wrath and addressing the scientists.

"What have you told them? Do you realize you could have jeopardized the entire future of the Universe?" The scientists knew that "universe" was code for "Quintesson Empire", and responded to Deliberata's berating in the same manner, telling the exact truth but letting none of the secrets spill.

"Magistrate, we could not help it. The Force-sensitive Earth-child sensed Unicron's spark arrive on this planet."

Deliberata was furious. He was the only who knew the code to open Starscream's quarters… unless…it hit him now. The Arbiter wanted Starscream to escape and contact the Sith, so he had given the Decepticon the security key. Deliberata audibly growled at being a pawn, but let his rage subside, transitioning to his neutral Face of Doubt to reflect his genuine mood. He may have resented his own role, but the Arbiter had thought twelve steps ahead. Now, with Starscream on the loose, someone else was the vertebrates' supposed biggest threat. They now had a cover story no one would challenge.

* * *

"Are you sure you can trust this…'Decepticon?" Quoreal had spent the whole flight to the mainland in Darth Shadow's Star Viper trying to understand the being that had told them where to go. The Yuuzhan Vong had traditionally hated all inorganic technology and though he knew that fully sentient inorganic lifeforms were a part of Cybertron's past, seeing one up close was unnerving.

He only voiced his doubts when he was now standing on the rocky terrain of the mainland, 1,000 kilometers away from the island.

"It's a little late to back out now," Shredder said. He stopped and spread his arms to encompass the vast wasteland around them.

"We're here now. Besides, knowing Starscream's history, he's probably already told the Quints where we're headed. We need to make it to that station so the wormhole will be as stable as their tech can make it."

Darth Shadow said nothing as his apprentice and temporary minion followed him though this unusually barren region of a mostly forest world. Nothing until Quoreal asked, "How does stabilizing the wormhole help us? We still can't leave orbit."

The Dark Lord of the Sith turned, bore into Quoreal's eyes, and said slowly, "Imagine you are an inhabitant of Cybertron, one of the most heavily populated planets in the Milky Way, and you see a massive anomaly in the night sky? Your Maximal-led government decides to send a research vessel to investigate and behold, your archenemies the Quintessons are up to something nefarious on your newfound neighbor. Why would you _not_ intervene?"

He did not have the look of someone whose empire had just been crushed, but of a being of solid discipline in complete control of the entire situation.

Quoreal tried to decipher what was behind those eyes.

"This is about more than gathering allies, isn't it?"

Shadow's skull-painted face now showed hints of a faint smile. "But of course," he turned the palm of his remaining hand upward as though inviting further thought.

"You see, the Maximals don't care for Starscream either, and I only trust his advice to us because he doesn't want the Quintessons plans to succeed. He's in this for himself, make no mistake—but he has something I want." Shadow turned his head to Shredder.

"You felt it, didn't you, my apprentice?"

"Unicron's spark, a powerful energy source. One we want under _Sith_ control." The Triceraton was emphatic.

"Both Starscream and the Quintessons said that they need a powerful Force-user for their plans to succeed, so despite Deliberata's posturing, they can't kill Lord Shredder or myself just yet. No amount of torture can get Shredder to the level of power they need. Deliberata may be an idiot, but his superiors can't be if they are half as intelligent as I think. For now, his life and mine are safe, and we can hide on various parts of Dathomir while we wait for the Maximals, provided we send them an unmistakable invitation."

Shadow turned to stare into sandy horizon. Spark extractors should still exist on Cybertron from the Vehicon era. If only he could separate Unicron's spark from Starscream's body, and unlock the spark's secrets through the Force—then _he_ , Darth Shadow, could become the Chaos Bringer himself, and have no further need for an apprentice.


	42. 4-10 Paradigm Shift

The Quintesson shuttle landed in a desert-scrub area many kilometers from the island, and unlikely team of Deliberata, Atrilo, Cody, Yeyinde, Lwothin, and Nightscream emerged onto the sandy surface.

Lwothin turned his head to take in the whole area surrounding them. He chirped something, but before LKD-9D9 could translate, Deliberata chirped back in fluent Ssi-Ruuvi.

This made Cody stare at the Quintesson.

He switched to his Face of Wrath, to convey his utter irritation with the bipeds. If things went according to plan most of them wouldn't survive anyway.

"Quintessons have internal translators and I paid more attention to the lizard's speech than the machine's."

Lwothin snorted, obviously offended at being called a "lizard."

The group began its long trek across the wasteland to their destination with Cody stepping backward to speak to Lwothin at the rear.

"I'm sorry for the Judge's speceism. As the most advanced species in the known universe, Quintessons, should know better."

Lwothin made a series of quick successive snorts, which LKD translated as, "My Master is laughing at you."

Cody was confused. Keeping his eyes on the back of Nightscream's feet, he knitted his eyebrows.

"What did I say that was so funny?"

"You equated lack of bigotry with technological advancement. As a P'weck who lived under the Ssi-Ruuvi caste system, my Master knows that is not true, and it reveals a certain level of bigotry on your own part," LKD translated as Lwothin snarled and tweeted.

Cody shook his head.

"The more a society knows, the better it can orange itself."

"How are you to say what's better?"

Cody chuckled.

"Defining morals is the job of society. Societies are what separate sentients from non-sentients."

"But, given your attitudes toward the Quintessons, your society is, clearly, better than theirs."

Cody was confused and looked at Lwothin.

"Insulting you wasn't an isolated incident. Why are you defending a way of life that promotes speciesm?"

Lwothin shook his own head and snorted. "My Master's direct words: I'm not, Cody, you are. Societies make morals, don't they? And the reason you find Quintesson speceism wrong isn't because speceism is inherently wrong, but because your society doesn't approve of it. You, Cody, are someone that can't stand the thought of universal truths, but secretly want them to exist. Perhaps you should ponder that for a while?"

Cody looked away and said nothing more for the duration of their walk. He did think quite a bit however. Lwothin was an ingrate, chastising him for speaking up for him. His life of hardship in the Ssi-Ruuvi cast system had obviously skewed his views on what made a society advanced. Just look at Earth and—he realized his error. He was the one blinded by his own experiences. They walked kilometer after kilometer as Cody realized the validity of some of what Lwothin was saying. He did have contradictory beliefs. One's society was the highest moral source to which one could turn, but—societies changed over time. At least some did. And the Quintessons, the oldest and most advanced society in two galaxies, had a caste system of their own. By the time they reached the end he realized he needed to adjust his views. They reached the end when they found Quoreal at the base of a small hill.

Cody was the last to notice the Yuuzhan Vong, only fully registering him when he addressed the group.

"They're lying to you!" The warrior said to his friends, before anyone could ask him about the bigger threat.

Yeyinde, who had started his time on this planet as Quoreal's archnemesis, and then became his most trusted confidant, replied curtly, "And the Decepticon lied to you. He's carrying Unicron's spark, which makes him more dangerous than all the Quintessons put together."

"Starscream isn't here." That name sent chills into the three Milky Way natives. The most treacherous general in Decepticon history, the one with a mutant immortal spark of his own—that was who now held the Spark of the Chaos Bringer!?

Nightscream glared angrily at Deliberata.

" _What_ did you do?"

Deliberata should have switched to his Face of Wrath, but he understood the Maximal's criticism. It was one he himself would have raised at Supreme Arbiter Alðerata if he had had the courage.

Instead, he merely said with his neutral Face of Doubt, "I understand your concern, but it was not we who put Unicron's spark into Starscream. It was Unicron who chose Starscream. Starscream came to us later—

Quoreal interjected, "Don't listen to any of their excuses—particularly his! He sent the Sharkticons to kill Rukh, and I saw him use them to kill Thrawn! The Quintessons and Starscream both need Shredder's Force abilities at their strongest. He and Shadow are here with me."

Suddenly Deliberata felt eight angry eyes glaring at him. These were the individuals who had most doubted the Quintessons from the beginning. Now that doubt was sealed and it had become something else.

Cody was about to demand what the Quintessons' exact plan was when the red triangle of Yeyinde's shoulder cannon lit first on Atrilo, then on Deliberata, and fired on each in sucession causing them to explode.

All the blood had drained out of the open-mouthed Cody's face, as had the servo-fluid from Nightscream's, when Lwothin looked at the Yautja and growled.

"My Master wishes to know if that was really necessary?"

"Relax," the Yautja said, his cannon still smoking, "Their clones on the ship have already been activated."

Cody was the first to put things together.

"Neither Starscream nor the Quintessons matter right now. Shredder does."

Quoreal shook his head, "A fully trained Shredder does. The most dangerous figure on the board is still Darth Shadow. He's down below." He gestured to a boulder.

"Yeyinde, a little help."

Together the Vong and Yautja pushed the boulder away, revealing a steep set of stairs going some ways underground.

Lwothin tweeted, and Cody arched an eyebrow.

"What my Master was saying to Deliberata earlier—this planet is not what one expects on first glance," LKD-9D9 explained.

It would be two against two. Cody and Yeyinde descended into the cavern below. The choice of Yeyinde made sense,but what could a weak Human who had neither the Force, nor a Yautja's natural strength, speed and agility do against two Sith Lords? It was Yeyinde who observed that the identity of one of those Sith Lords was exactly why Cody had to come. The leaders of the Foot Clan had hated Cody's family ever since the 1980s, and until recently they had been pathetic minions of Krang. Darth Shredder had freed himself from Krang only to find a new master. If anyone could pick at Shredder's hidden vulnerabilities and drive a wedge between him and the one who was supposed to train him, it was Cody.

As the Human and Yautja descended deeper into the tunnel and the sun's light faded, Quintesson glyphs emanated a fluorescent glow. Cody looked at the steps beneath his feet. They were rock, but the walls were obviously metallic, at least in sections…

"Keep up, Jones," Yeyinde said, "We can admire Quintesson interior decorating later."

They reached the bottom of the stair to find a gigantic circular metal gate which was apparently left open. Starscream had obviously given the Sith the access code. It was very rare to hear a Yautja Hunter sigh in anxiety, but strangely it made Cody feel more secure. They were aware of the dangers that waited for them.

Eventually, after walking through a long corridor, they heard a familiar and disturbing voice.

"Jones and the Hunter, to what end have your cephalopod overlords sent you?" Darth Shadow asked. By now Cody could clearly see a well-lit control room with green tiles and light orange furnishings. Darth Shredder was sitting at a key board next to a holographic projection of the planet.

"What is he doing?" Cody asked.

"Making inter-galactic history." Shredder said proudly. "When I finish imputing this code that Starscream gave us, all of the Quintesson labs on this planet will activate and send a pulse of energy stabilizing the worm hole."

Cody then realized the full impact of what Shredder said.

"Travel between the galaxies will be possible!"

"What do you know?" Shredder said sarcastically. "He has a brain after all."

"So' you are going to be Starscream's pawn now, after you have just freed yourself from Krang?" Cody said, attempting to strike at Shredder's vulnerable ego. But Darth Shadow began to chuckle.

"He's no one's pawn but my own. Starscream needs a fully trained Force-user. It will take years for him to reach his full potential, time enough for me to learn all of Starscreams plans and betray him. The Sith will be the ultimate victors from what happens here today."

Yeyinde scoffed.

"Is the Yautja who charged in and got his friend killed really going to accuse _me_ of overconfidence?"

Cody saw an opening and took it.

"You are overconfident, Shadow. You're training Shredder to be a powerful Force-user, but he is still just a pawn. And when he finds out you are done with him he will kill you, just like he did his old boss."

The Triceraton growled and stood up. He pointed to Cody, "I am the Shredder, your family's ultimate nemesis, Jones. I am no one's pawn, but for right now, I need him. "

Then Shredder entered the final code. Lights all over the holo-projection of Dathomir lit up and a purple whirl appeared in the space around the hologram.

"Now stay away from the Quintessons when the Maximals get here, I want to kill you myself when I am my own boss."

 **Cybertron, Milky Way Galaxy** , **Four and a half years later**

Cody still remembered the night they made it back to the beach as if it were yesterday. In many ways, he supposed, he'd never really left. As usual, the Quintessons had been one step ahead of them. Deliberata's clone had already activated and taken a shuttle down to the surface. Cody was the first to step out of his group's stolen Quintesson shuttle and see a look of utter amazement on Mirta's face.

"I'd expect something like this from Yeyinde and Quoreal, and _especially_ Nightscream, but I thought you would have more sense than this."

Cody replied quickly so that none of the others would have the chance to respond to the deliberate calling out of names.

"Mirta, Deliberata is a liar. He killed Rukh! "

Meewal stepped forward and hissed at Cody.

Deliberata in a slightly bored mood looked at the two females with his neutral Face of Doubt.

"He learned all of this from the Yuuzhan Vong whom we already established is working for Starscream and the Sith. And the Yautja, who has always resented us and you, was only too happy to help him. I am willing to accept ignorance as an excuse for the Human, the Maximal, and the Ssi-ruu, but these two trouble makers have to go."

And with that, a small council of Mirta, Meewal, Deliberata, Inquiriata, and Hexato convened and after a little discussion agreed that the Judge's decision was best. Quoreal and Yeyinde were exiled from camp. Nightscream began yelling, Lwothin held his head low, and Cody stared at Mirta with pleading eyes.

"Why are you doing this?"

"You are the one who always says society defines morality and like it or not, Cody, we are a society right here and the Quintessons are our oldest members. I'm standing by their decision!"

Mirta said as someone who had firmly made a decision of her own.

Cody was still there, in that moment, even after all this time.

Within two days, a Maximal starship crossed the wormhole and rescued everyone.

They were kind enough to pick up Quoreal and Yeyinde. Within a matter of weeks, relations were established between the Republic and the Milky Way Galaxy. Everyone made it back to their homeworlds.

Rather than joining the Maximals, the Quintessons took their own starship home. Apparently, during this time, they recaptured Starscream. The two Sith Lords had not been found, though when Shredder returned to public life as head of the Foot once more, he had "Darth" preceding his name. Darth Shadow's whereabouts were unknown, but he had likely taken Krang's old position as the true master of the Foot.

None of these developments mattered as much to Cody as the fact that he had seen his own philosophy hurt people. He now wished that there was a such thing as universal morality. It was this desire that made him remember what Lwothin had said to him that fateful day on Dathomir.

This was why he responded to the P'weck's message on his computer and was now standing outside his old acquaintance's apartment on Cybertron.

Lwothin opened the door to see Cody with stubble and bloodshot eyes.

"You said something important happened and that it involves me."

Lwothin gestured for Cody to enter.

Once the Human had sat on the sofa and exchanged greetings with LKD-9D9 who was perched atop Lwothin's computer, the P'weck himself spoke, with the aid of the translators in his wristbands and belt.

"Something important has happened that involves us all. The Chaos Bringer is about to enact the final part of his plan," a British Received Pronunciation seemed to emanate from Lwothin's mouth.

Cody rolled his eyes and sighed. "Starscream again?"

Lwothin shook his head. "He was destroyed a few weeks ago. I'm talking about the current organic, Force-sensitive Chaos Bringer, your family's nemesis."


	43. 5-1 Setting the Board

**AN** : The events taking place on Cybertron are set after the end of _Beast Machines_. There are drastic changes in Cybertron's appearance, and in Transformer biology, as a result of becoming technorganic. Also people on either the good or evil sides can change before the story is over. We still have about two books to get through.

 **Dramatis Personae for Book Five**

 **On the Good side**

 **With Primus**

Cody Jones (Human male from Earth, originally from _TMNT: Fast Forward_ )

Durga Besadii Tai (Hutt male, OC, namesake from _Star Wars Legends_ )

Lwothin (P'weck male, species and namesake from _Star Wars Legends_ )

LKD-9D9 (Portable interpreter Droid)

Primus (Rakata male, creator of the Cybertronian species, Chracter from _Transformers_ canon, species from _Star Wars Legends)_

 **The Maximals**

Cheetor Prime (Maximal male, cheetah, Leader of Cybertron, Cheetor fom _Beast Wars_ and _Beast Machines_ )

Silverbolt (Maximal male, eagle, husband to Blackarachnia, father of Chrysalis, originally from _Beast Wars_ and _Beast Machines_ )

Blackarachnia (Maximal female, Spider, wife to Silverbolt, mother of Chrysalis, originally from _Beast Wars_ and _Beast Machines_ )

Nightscream (Maximal male, bat, husband of Chrysalis, originally from _Beast Machines)_

Chrysalis (Maximal female, moth, daughter of Silverbolt and BlackArachnia, wife of Nightscream, OC)

 **The Yautja (Predators)**

Yeyinde (OC, unorthodox hunter)

Scar (OC, conventional hunter)

Blade (OC, conventional hunter)

 **Grey Jedi**

Tesar Sebatyne (Barabel male, Grey Jedi Knight, master to Muni Patel, originally from _Star Wars Legends_ )

Muni Patel (Tennage Human Male from Earth, Gery Jedi Padawan toTesar Sebatyne, OC)

 **On the Evil Side**

 **With the Sith/Foot**

Zed Ram/Darth Shredder (Triceraton male, The Chaos Bringer, Dark Lord of the Sith, Leader of the Foot Clan, based on unsused Trishreddatron concept from canceled second season of _TMNT: Fast Forward_ )

Savazh Sizhran/Darth Shadow (Zabrak/Falleen hybrid male, former leader of the Sith reduced to minion status, OC from my _Star Wars_ fic "Shadows of the Sith)

Qoureal Rapuung (Yuuzhan Vong Male, Warrior caste, minion of Darth Shredder, species from _Star Wars Legends_ , OC)

 **With the Quintessons**

Supreme Arbiter Alðerata (Quintesson male, Magistrate caste, supreme leader of the Quintesson species, OC)

Imperial Magistrate Deliberata (Quintesson male, Magistrate caste, originally from _Transform G1_ arc "Five Faces of Darkness)

Commander Atrilo (Quintesson female, Warrior Caste, OC)

Inquiriata (Quintesson male, Scientst caste, from _Transformers G1_ episode "Forever Is a Long Time Coming")

Hexato (Quintesson female, Scientist caste, OC)

Mirta Rau (Human female from Concord Dawn, the Quintessons' ambassador to Mandalore, OC)

Meewal (Noghri female, future Maitrakh of clan Khim'bar, namsake from _Star Wars Legends_ )

 **Flashback Characters**

Starscream (Decepticon male, jet, Chaos Bringer before Darth Shredder, from _Transformers G1_ )

Unicron (Planet-sized Transformer that eats planets, male Chaos Bringer before Starscream, originally from _Transformers G1 Animated Movie)_

 **Dathomir, Quintesson Space, Outer Rim of the Rakatan Galaxy**

Durga should have known this would happened when he refused to finish the negotiations with Starscream. The Kajidics all agreed that Durga was the most neutral figure to represent the Hutts, so he was forced into another round of negotiations. Much to his chagrin, the Quintessons, insulted by the previous break down, insisted that the second round of negotiations should take place on Dathomir, the entire planet now being recognized by the Republic and the major Milky Way powers as Quintesson domain.

Of all the planets in the two galaxies, why did it have to be Dathomir? Durga did not have fond experiences of being stranded there and believing his group had doomed the universe to heat death. He understood the Quintesson's wanting to meet on their own territory after their meeting on Nal Hutta went so badly, but still, out of all of the planets they controlled it had to be Dathomir. Durga couldn't help but feel that they'd done this just to spite him.

He knew that the Quintessons had some bitter history with the Hutts in the primeval past when the two had shared a homeworld, and that after the last meeting, their leaders must have something in for him personally.

Also, as a consequence of the previous talks Durga did some reading into Starscream's history. He had never heard the name of the escaped Decepticon that Deliberata was hunting on Dathomir, but know he knew that it could only have been Starscream. To trust someone so dangerous was bad judgment—in fact all of the Quintesson's shifting stories showed that they had bad judgement as a whole if all these stories were true. Somehow Durga doubted the leaders of a group this powerful were really bad decision makers, and suspected that Starscream's disappearance was part of the Quintesson's long-term plan on Dathomir all along.

Durga's shuttle began its descent into what was once the home of Mother Talzin's coven of Nightsisters. The Supreme Arbiter had chosen this site for the current capital of the Quintesson Empire. The metallic domes and and spiral-ship buildings seem to erase the very memory of the coven. He knew Darth Shadow would be angry about this—Talzin being his paternal grandmother and the likely reason he chose to rebuild the Sith here.

"We're preparing for our final descent, Sir," a protocol droid informed Durga.

"Thanks," Durga said not realizing he'd just been polite to a droid.

His mind was too concerned with a certain mechanism that passed all criteria for sentience and fear that he would meet him again.

The more Durga thought about Starscream and the Quintessons, the more he realized the terror based on what they knew was eclipsed on what they didn't. All of it centered on the Mysterious being known as Unicron. What did the Quintessons mean when they said Starscream contained his "spark?" Wasn't that what Cybertronians called their souls? Durga knew that most of his answers were only a few light-years away, in the wormhole to the Cybertronian System.

Durga exited his shuttle, protocol droid in tow, and noticed numerous Quintessons from various castes strolling the pavement or moving between the buildings and looking at him. The most important appeared to be a gigantic Quintesson with a large Alicon bodyguard. This individual was looking at Durga with his Face of Laughter, the face that Judges used to indicate pleasure or general good will.

All doubt that Durga had about who he was supposed to talk to vanished when the giant Quintesson said in a booming voice, "Welcome, Durga. Besadii Tai of our cousins on the Homeworld."

Durga was confused.

"Who are you? I thought I was supposed to be talking to Starscream."

"Fortunately he has served his purpose and is no longer with us. These matters are too important to leave to a lesser emissary. I am Alðerata, Supreme Arbiter of the Quintesson Empire."

Durga's mouth flew open. This was the being who knew all the details about the Quintessons' long and convoluted plans.

Alðerata switched to his neutral face of doubt. "I can see that you know of me and fear to guess what I am capable of. I would like you to follow me to our research lab."

`Durga followed the Supreme Abriter into one of the metallic domes, Inside the room, various Quintesson Scientists were working around what looked like eggs on a conveyor belt that mechanically arms holding needles would descend down to inject. By each conveyor was a screen displaying the vital statistics of whatever was in those eggs.

As Durga tried to piece together what was going on, his Quintesson host glided to one of the stations and the Hutt was compelled to follow. Upon arriving, Durga heard a familiar voice.

"Inquiriata," Arbiter said, "explain to our gastropod relative the work you are doing here."

Inquriata turned, looked at the Hutt, and said, in a warm tone, "It is a pleasure to see you again, Your Lordship."

Then, with their previous meeting acknowledged, the scientists tone became all business.

After adjusting the controls on the screen, a large, sleek organism with an elonged head, black exoskeleton, and spear-like tail appeared.

"Meet the Xenomorph, the most notorious parasite in the Milky Way Galaxy. That is what we are growing here."

Durgavas was confused.

How can something so large be a galaxy's worst parasite.

"The Xenomorph is an esstential threat to an entire planatary population because of the way it reproduces. When Xenomorph eggs hatch, they yield organisms called "face huggers" which deliver Xenomorph genetic material into the host. The hosts and parasite DNA mix, and within hours, a baby Xenomorph with features of both its own genome and its host's will burst through the host's thorax. The one you saw on screen was part human."

Durga felt sick. He looked at the eggs and injections.

"Yes, the Arbiter said, "these are Xenomorph eggs that we are enhancing and controlling. Agree to the terms Staroream gave you or we will bring chaos of our own on your species."

For now, Durga had to submit.

 _ **The Fang,**_ **Republic Space, Rakatan Galaxy**

The meeting of the two galaxies changed things drastically for Muni Patel. He now knew that the mysterious powers he had been born with were part of a universal energy field called the Force, and that there were multiple orders that used or worshipped this energy field.

Not long after his return to Earth and reunion with his mother, she was approached by representatives of the Grey Jedi Order, who promised that if she let them train the boy, he would in turn be an agent of justice in the two galaxies. At first she was hesitant, after everything Muni had told her about the Sith, but they both quickly discovered that whatever faults the Grey Jedi Order had, they were greatly esteemed by the Galactic Republic in general and the Noghri in particular. The Jedi left contact information with Muni's mother and several months passed until there was a news broadcast in which it became known that the Foot Clan's Triceraton Leader had added "Darth" to the traditional title of "Shredder." Zed was still a Sith, and if one order had a presence in the Milky Way, its opposite needed the same.

So the twelve-year-old Muni became a grey Jedi Padawan, apprenticed to the Barabel Grey Jedi Knight Tesar Sebatyne.

Muni had trained under his saurian master for four years now. As a Barabel, Tesar, was covered in hard maroon scales, though unlike most saurians, he lacked a snout. His mouth was wide, his teeth pointed, and his nostrils merely two slits, but his expressions were easy to read.

He was a strict disciplinarian, but was also prone to making jokes, and usually referred to himself in the third person as "This one," as his native language rarely used a first-person pronoun.

The apprentice was deflecting fire from a moving target with his green-bladed light saber, when a beeping console distracted his master's attention. Tesar simply said, "Muni, stop!"

The apprentice came to a halt as Tesar used the Force to de-activate the target. Muni knew the traditional lecture by heart: "Never destroy this one's training droids. This one does not have a fortune."

Tesar activated the console. A hologram of a robed human woman appeared. Tesar formed a fist and pounded his opposite palm with it before bowing his head.

"Master Calista," Tesar acknowledged.

"Knight Sebatyne, we have received disturbing reports about a Quintesson biological weapon being developed on Dathomir."

"What kind of biological weapon, Master?"

"That is precisely what we want you and your apprentice to find out. A representative of the Hutt Kajidics is claiming that a parasite that uses it's host's genetic material to create monsters …."

Muni's ears pricked up and he blurted out, "Xenomorphs!"

Tesar and Master Calista looked at the human boy from the Milky Way.

"Please forgive me for interrupting, but there is a creature in my galaxy that matches that description perfectly. If the Quintessons are using Xenomorphs, the entire galaxy is in danger."

"Easy there, this one's apprentice. This one appreciates the knowledge of your galaxy that you provide, but the Hutts may already know this as well. They have just signed a humiliating treaty with the Quintessons. This could all be Hutt propaganda, and there may be no threat And on Dathomir."

"And this is why we need the two of you on Dathomir, to find out exactly what is going on." Master Calista said.

 **Cybertron, Cybertronian Space, Milky Way Galaxy**

Durga's transport arrived on Cybertron only a few hours after it had left Coruscant. He had to use public transport, lest the Quintessons note his personal ship, deduce his motives, and attack Nal Hutta with Xenomorphs. He had usually trusted what Uxils and later Lwothin had said about the Quintessons. Lwothin now lived in Iocon, the capital of Cybertron. Why the P'weck had settled there was a mystery to Durga, but he hoped that Lwothin would know things, the way Uxils had on Dathomir.

As Durga was pushing himself forward with the muscles in his tail toward Lwothin's place, it began to rain. The vines and flowers that were part of the technorganic buildings must have been enjoying the water, but Durga was annoyed by the raindrops that fell into his large eyes. Durga needed his eyes to see which ground-level apartment belonged to Lwothin. It would be the one that had both Cybertronian script and the Republic's Aurek-Besh script on the side.

Durga blinked several times, and wiped his eyes on the back of his hands. He then bent his head forward so that he was facing down and his eyes were not targets of the incoming rain.

The ground was definitely odd. The grass on either side of the path was certainly real grass, but the path itself was a dull greenish-brown metal—metal that came up out of the ground as though it were rock with no sign of construction other than the grass stopping abrubtly on either side. In fact, it felt a little muddy.

 _Nightscream, you come from a weird planet_ , Durga thought.

Finally raising his eyes to see the appropriate door, Durga preceeded to pound with his fist.

The door slid open to reveal a calm Lwothin, who greeting Durga in a Coruscanti-accented Basic, "Greetings, Durga, I've been expecting you."

Durga was surprised to hear Lwothin even capable of Dura's own type of vocalizations, to enter.

"What happened to LKD?" Durga asked standing in the rain.

"I'm in here," the unmistakable voice of the interpreter droid from inside.

"Please come in," Lwothin gestured to Durga, who was able to fit through the door.

He noticed the Human.

"Hey, Cody! Why are you here?" Durga asked in a friendly tone.

"I've been waiting nearly an hour for Lwothin to explain," came the groggy reply from the Humawho was resting his chin on the back of his hand.

"My master has his reasons," LKD-9D9.

"I was waiting for someone from my galaxy to arrive," the P'weck said, "my instructor kew that there would be two of you, and why Durga has come."

Cody arched his eyebrows.

"Your _instructor_?"

"Uxils and I met him on Dathomir while you were a captive of the Sith. I've met him several times since on Cybertron."

Durga looked on intently, but Cody was already skeptical. "Was he a Sith?"

Lwothin shook his head.

"He's much older than the Jedi or the Sith..or the Quintesson Empire. Have you ever heard of Primus?"

Cody scoffed.

"The Cybertronian god?"

"Not a god, just a very old Force-sensative Rakata."


	44. 5-2 Trust Misplaced

**Dathomir, Quintesson Space, Rakata Galaxy**

Mirta Rau was grateful for the opportunity to serve the Quintesson Empire. They were everything that the Republic in general, and Mandalore in specific, was not. Only those who understood justice after millennia of interacting with other cultures were in a position to make policy. Only those who made war or science their life's object of study were allowed in those fields. There was efficiency and harmony in such a system. Why others feared the Quintessons was obvious: their age, and resulting knowledge and efficiency intimidated everyone. They'd never try to make a warrior adapt to a life of peace they way the Mandalorians had done to her.

She could never go back to peace as a human understood it, but seeing life through her friends' eyes for the first time, she could work the seemingly peaceful job of ambassador, serving the Quintesson Empire's goals for Mandaloian space. In truth the Quintessons, were still using her past as a warrior in her present position, as treaties often had to be fought for, not with blasters of course, but words had to be chosen ad deployed strategically all the same. Why did so many in both galaxies look down on caste systems when they required an individual to master one specific skill set and use it in conjunction with other specialists to better society? Just look at what chaos had erupted over the former Ssi-Ruuvi imperium when the caste system broke down, or the issues that the Yuuzhan Vong were still dealing with?

Fortunately for everyone the Quintesson Empire was going to use its superior age and acquired intelligence to set things right in both Galaxies, and Mirta, as the Quintesson ambassador to Mandalore was witnessing that happen in the Imperial capital today. The Mandalorians along with several other Republic worlds were attending the signing of the Vaarl Alliance treaty, which recognized the Quintesson's right to have a say in the Grand Council of Hutt Kajidics. She knew that her friend Durga had signed the initial treaty, but now it was being ratified by the leaders of each Kajidic in person.

Each of the Hutts sat in repulsor lifts around the oval shaped table in the center of the room at the end of all the inclining stairs. Alðerata stood at the table's head, the last to affix his signature and the Quintesson seal.

When the Supreme Arbiter laid the document down, applause began to erupt from various individuals watching, including Mirta herself.

"What is the cause of this celebration, Ambassador?" The light-skinned and auburn-haired Councilor Fel of the Mandalorian delegation asked, her eye-brows arched in confusion.

"We finally have control of crime in the galaxy! The Kajidics' reign is over," Mirta looked starry-eyed on the scene unfolding below.

"Yes, _you_ do. But I still fail to see why so many others are celebrating."

Mirta resented the "you" in that sentence. "I'm a Mandalorian, not a Quintesson."

"And yet," Fel eyed the proceedings below with a mix of anxiety and resentment, "You serve Quintesson interest on Mandalore."

Mirta contorted her face in an angry sneer. "Well, the Quintessons want what is best for the universe, and like it or not, Mandalore is part of the universe."

She looked down to the platform to see…a _female_ Noghri approach the Arbiter. As warriors and assassins, female Noghri were as common as males, but as for leaders—women ruled, men represented.

As Mirta studied the face of this Noghri she recognized Meewal.

With a final hand and tentacle shake between Alðerata and one of the Kajidic leaders, the party on the floor dispersed up the stairs. Alðerata hovered up the stairs to the Madalorian delegation which was just getting ready to depart, with Meewal in and a few of her Noghri body guards in his train.

The entire Mandalorian delegation rose to pay the Quintesson Head of State formal respect.

"I'm glad that Mandalore chose to attend these proceedings," he said through his Face of Laughter, "you are witnessing the beginnings of a new age."

"Hopefully, there will be no radical changes to the galaxy," Councilor Fel said.

Alðerata chuckled.

"'Radical' is such an ugly word. But I do believe that resources of the Hutt Kajidics can be put to productive use now."

"Should the Republic be concerned?"

"Less than it has been about organized crime, though we're still working on Black Sun."

Seeing a chance to further her benefactors' agenda, Mirta said, in a polite but defensive tone, "Were it not for the Quintesson's we would not know that Sizhran Savazh is a Sith Lord."

"A Sith Lord who killed my husband," Meewal said.

All looked at the future Maitrakh of Clan Khim'bar. She and Mirta had been stranded on Dathomir together before the Quintessons had rescued them from the Sith. The voice of a non-Human from one of the most isolated worlds in the Republic gave more weight to Meewal's words. She, unlike Mirta, really did have a different perspective.

"Tell me, Lady Khim'bar, does Honoghr have the same trust issues with the Quintessons that Mandalore does?" Fel asked.

Meewal sighed.

"I cannot speak for all of Honoghr, but the Dynasts in Nastyo all regret that my husband will be unable to join them, and are grateful for the Quintesson promise to avenge his killer, something that they did not have to do."

Fel leaned forward, "And why would the Quintessons involve themselves in an internal Noghri matter?"

"Because it wasn't an 'internal Noghri matter'!" Meewal said angrily. "The Sith tried to kidnap a Force-sensitive Human boy from the other galaxy. My husband fell defending him. All this happened while we under Quintesson protection. They feel that it is their duty."

Alðerata rotated his Face of Death which symbolized a finally made decision toward Fel.

"We always keep our debts. Rukh Clan Khim'bar died under our protection, which makes us at fault until his killer his apprehended and compensation to his widow and child are made. We _are_ beings of honor."

The Supreme Arbiter and the Mandalorian Councilor continued their talk as they and most of their respective parties headed up the stairs. Leaving Mirta, Meewal, and the Noghri bodyguards behind.

Eewal's gaze met her friend's.

"So, is it true that the Quintessons offered you asylum from the charges against you on Concordia and then made you their own Ambassador to Mandalore?"

Mirta smiled.

"Basically, but they helped me to see that it was the Mandalorian legal system that was at fault in the first place. "

Meewal was confused.

"I thought you killed a man for beating his wife?"

"A Formersubordinate officer to me during the Yuuzhan Vong War. I acted within my rights. You can never really separate who a person is from what they do. Making soldiers adapt to peace timeis doomed to failure. The rest of the known Universe looks down on caste systems, but the Quintessons have the right idea."

Meewal scowled a little.

""Ididn't want to be a Maitrakh when I was growing up."

"But now are there any Noghri better suited to the task than you?"

Meewal nodded, "After Dathomir, Quintessons are the only great power to control territory on both sides of the wormhole, and I'm the Noghri who best understands them, and can best lead my people into a beneficial partnership with them."

Mirta caught a hint of yearning in Meewal's voice.

"Do I detect ambition?"

"For my people," Meewal explained.

"Not even Maitrakh of Clan Khim'bar yet and you carry the hopes of all Honoghr on your shoulders. It sounds to me like you're thinking about a united Honoghr."

Mewall paused for a minute and seemed to star into empty space.

"I suppose I am," she finally said. She also realized that she was the only one capable of changing a united Honoghr from an ambition into a reality.

"I suppose I'd have to be the first Maitrakh of all Honoghr.."she hesitated, realizing that only someone with her attention to detail could pull off such a daunting task, and she already had an answer to the question of her own loyalties—her sister could be Maitrakh of Clan Khim'bar, while she would remain Maitrakh of all Honoghr. She would have to remarry to ensure asolid union with Khim'bar strongest rival, Clan Bakh'tor and have female offspring that could succeed to her office. She did not want a loveless political marriage—she had not wanted it when she married a bodyguard and was sure that no princeling could share in the same kind of passion that

her marriage to Rukh had turned into just befor the Sith had killed him. Still, the needs of Honoghr must come first: she did not have the luxury of marrying for love. The needs of Honoghr must come first: it need to be united to survive, and a united world needed a single Maitrakh.

"I want what's best for Honoghr, so I suppose I do want to be sole Maitrakh, even though I never wanted to rule my own clan for my own sake."

Mirta nodded.

"Wanting to be in power should be about wanting to make things better for people. That's why you'll make a good Maitrakh."

Meewal's thoughts turned toward the future. She smiled.

"And as my first act with this new authority, I will decree that all Noghri receive self-defense training, regardless of the social position they are born into."

"Excelent!" Mirta said enthusiastically.

Meewal paused and looked at her friend suspiciously.

"I thought you supported caste systems and their rules…"

"As long as the self-defense doesn't interfere with a Maitrakh's leadership duties. Quintesson Judges also have vast amounts of scientific knowledge, but it doesn't hurt their ability to be diplomats or policy makers."

"So," Meewal stepped backward as she tried to take in her friend's view of the universe, "you see caste systems as liberating, not binding?"

"I see them as matching people to their talents."

Meewal chukled.

Mirta looked confused.

"You're from Honoghr, a conservative planet. You should be agreeing with me?"

Meewal looked Mirta in the face, "I'm not a conservative Noghri or I would never suggest that those of a Maitrakh's bloodline should learn self-defense. Castes tell you what you must do simply because that is what your parents did. It has nothing to do with an individual's unique talents."

Mirta shook her head this time.

"The Quintessons didn't inherit their caste positions. None of them have died since they encountered Unicron. They've had millions of years to become experts at what they do."

Meewal said angrily, "Noghri aren't Quintessons! We don't have millions of years to become experts!"

Mirta had nothing to say. She searched desperately for a comeback, but found nothing.

"But..."her sentence ended with one word as she looked down to the floor.

"The Quintessons are our allies, and I'm very grateful for all that they have done for my people, but they are not us. We don't think of time in the same way. They have as long as the universe endures, the rest of us have only decades or centuries. A person must discover how they can best serve."

Something about what Meewal was saying didn't fit with the Noghri that Mirta thought she knew.

"I know your liberal for a Noghri, but as we both know, you come from a very conservative culture I don't think you are advocating that people should be free to do whatever they want."

"Of course not!" Meewal shouted, and her bodyguards stepped forward. She waved her hands and they moved backward.

Mirta was more surprised than afraid.

"Please forgive them, they don't speak Basic, and heard me shouting."

Mirta nodded, but was still unsure why her friend had raised her voice. Fortunately, her friend soon explained.

"By human standards Noghri are a very conservative people. We," Meewal paused for emphasis

"including my self, believe that the morals we live by come from our Creator—but we believe that we are made both to be indivduals and members of communities. A caste system strips your individuality."

Mirta shook her head. "You sound like Uxils or the way Shalx became. I put my trust in society."

Meewal nodded. "I understand your view, but for me that would be trust misplaced."


	45. 5-3 Beasts after War

**AN:** This story takes place thirty years after the events of _Beast Machines_ the sequel show to _Beast Wars._ For any one not familiar, Blackarachnia was a Maximal Prtoform that got reprogramed by Tarantualus and introduced as a Predicon in season 1 of _Beast Wars._ Silverbolt was wolf-eagle Maximal fuzor who was introduced in season 2 and had a romantic relationship with Blackarachnia that lead her to switch sides. In _Beast Machine_ Silverbolt is reprogramed as the Vehicon jet general Jetstorm. That time it was Blackarachnia who brought him back to the light. He's also got a pure eagle beast mode now instead of an eagle/wolf fuzor one. In all, I Silverbolt to be friendlier in _Beast Wars_ and in more psychological pain in _Beast Machines._

* * *

Life had been kind to Nightscream in the days after his return to the Milky Way. All the rivalry between himself and the eagle Maximal Silverbolt seemed to be over—at least for now, and as husband to Chrysalis, the beautiful moth of his dreams, things were perfect How such a fine creature with ethereal blue wings, gentle lavender exoskeleton, and compassionate yellow eyes could be related to that preening jerk was beyond Nightscream, but then sexual reproduction was new to the Cybertronians as a species. Perhaps she took more after her mother, Blackarachnia.

Still, there was always some kind of chip on his father-in-law's shoulder, resenting the fact that the oracle had chosen Cheetor and not him to be the Maximal's new leader.

Nightscream had hoped to settle down into a quiet life with Chrysalis making music and stay out of politics as much as possible. These hopes had large been reality for about four and a half years, then today happened.

Cheetor—he would always just be Cheetor, not Cheetor Prime to those who fought alongside him—had called. He needed to speak with Nightscream—specifically with Nightscream. Nightscream knew that this could only be about the other galaxy and his experiences there. Cheetor had until now made it a policy to keep Nightscream out of politics as a favor to another who had incurred Silverbolt's ire.

For him to summon Nightscream back for a government service like this—his friend had to have a reason.

Now Nightscream was flying down the corridors of the Maximal Council of Elders, the same building Megatron had used as his headquarters during his rule of Cybertron. The gigantic main chamber would bring back unpleasant memories. Fortunately, Cheetor's office was three rooms down on the right side of the corridor leading to it.

Nightscream landed and transformed to robot mode. He touched the panel on the side of the door and it slid open.

Cheetor, seated at wide desk next to a computer, looked up and said, "Nightscream, thanks for coming."

The door slid closed behind the bat.

"You sounded urgent," Nightscream replied as he took a seat infront of Cheetor's desk.

"I was." Cheetor paused to emphasize his next point. "The oracle hadn't spoken to me since choosing me to be the first Prime of a Technorganic Cybertron…until yesterday."

Nightscream twitched. Cheetor noticed.

"I had the same reaction, only stronger," he said. An understatement if there ever was one. Oracle visions could be intense.

"The Quintessons are planning something in the other galaxy, that involves handing over a gigantic power source to the ne Chaos Bringer."

"Starscream?" Nightscream asked. "He holds Unicron's spark now."

"Not Starscream anymore—someone organic and sensitive to the energy field that they call the Force."

Nightscream immediately knew what was happening. He stood up.

"They said they needed someone powerful in the Force for their plans to control spacetime!"

Cheetor had been expecting this reaction, considering he'd read Nightscream's debriefing.

"The Oracle didn't say the Chaos Bringer could become that powerful, but the power source is still great enough to make him as big a threat as Unicron was."

Nightscream swallowed and nodded.

"Okay, okay, you want to send me back."

Cheetor sighed, "I haven't told you the part you really need to be afraid of yet."

* * *

This most painful thing about the upcoming mission from Nightscream's perspective would be that he would be working directly under his father-in-law. If truth be told, his relationship with Silverbolt had been almost doomed from the start.

Nightscream had been a Maximal living on Cybertron at the time of Megatron's virus and the creation of the Vehicons. Optimus Primal's crew of Maximals that had fought Megatron in the Beast Wars on prehistoric Earth, returned to Cybertron months after Megatron due to the temporal anomaly on their way back. Two of them, including Silverbolt got captured by Megatron and made into Vehicon generals. He first knew Silverbolt as the sadistic Vehicon jet, Jetstorm—who had been the one to destroy his hideout when he met Optimus's group of Maximals.

He had to admit, he was the one at fault for holding what Silverbolt had done as Jetstorm against him, but the bird's attitude after being free from Megatron's control didn't help.

Feeling unworthy of Blackarachnia's rescuing him, while at the same time looking down on Cheetor and Nightscream for their relative "youth" gave him the effect of bringing down team morale. They had actually been online longer than Silverbolt had, but already had a more mature programming when he first emerged from a protoform state according to the other veterans of the Beast Wars.

Still, Nightscream was glad that Silverbolt had reconciled with Blacarachnia at with Megatron's defeat. Otherwise the beautiful creature that greeted Nightscream when he returned home never would have existed.

Nightscream touched the door chime, and Chrysalis opened the door, ready to put her arms around her husband.

He returned the gesture.

"I think I'm going to need to sit down," Nightscream said, as he broke the embrace and walked toward a rocklike "couch" with leafy pillows.

"That bad?" His wife asked, "Are they sending you back?"

"Yes, and I'm okay with that."

Chrysalis sat down beside him. Her eyes betrayed that she knew there was a "but" coming.

"I actually want to see action again," he said, which given his general laziness around the house lately didn't surprise her.

"But," here it came—"I do not want to be the direct subordinate of your father!"

Chrysalis laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"It's just that you were cut off from the galaxy for a long period of time, faced the Quintessons, a Force-using cult, and the most infamous Decepticon traitor in history, and my dad still scares you more than they do!" Her face beamed with amusement.

"Well, to be fair, I never saw Starsream, but still, when you look at Silverbolt, in spite of everything he's said to you, you still see 'Dad,' When I look at him I see this fearless inflexible knight who has the standards that no one with a real life can meet."

"He did eventually give us his blessing."

"Your mother choked it out of him."

"Dinner at my folks' tonight?" The look in her eyes now read 'You can't putt this off."

"Sure," Nightscream sighed, "Why not?"

* * *

The four Maximals sat cross-legged on the floor around a raised wooden, yet metallic plates contained various technorganic vegetables and small, imported slices of quadroped meet. Meat was one thing Technorganic Cybertron did not have in abundance. Still, Transformers with carnivore beast modes, like Silverbolt, Blackarachnia, and Nightscream, managed just fine. As with their purely technological ancestors, their primary sustenance was energon. A glass of energon in its pinkish liquid for could still keep a Transformer body going for a while. A Cybertronian could survive for months on energon alone, but their new organic components required occasional feeding in an organic manner.

Nightscream looked down at the meat on his plate, then across the table to Silverbolt,

"So," Nightscream hesitated unsure whether to call his arch-nemesis "Silverbolt" or "Dad", "did you kill these yourself?"

Even though Silver bolt's robot mode was the most humanoid like, its avian aspects could still be seen when he was staring at you: the indentions around his mouth and chin looking like something between a turkey's snoodles and a goatee. If the topknot looked like a human samurai, the eyes were still all-eagle.

"Yes actually, I did. I even left the blood in it." Nightscream was a vampire, that ought to buy him some points with him, Silverbolt thought.

His wife, the spider Maximal Blackarachnia was also a vampire, and it certainly bought points with her. She was in robot mode: a mostly humanoid head and thorax with multiple eyes, hot pink dermis, multiple legs and a spider's abdomen.

"It is quite good. Reminds me of prehistoric earth."

"And all the times you tried to kill me?" Silverbolt said, romance thick in his voice.

Chrysalis shook her head. She was tired of hearing how her mother had been a Predacon working for Megatron for most of the Beast Wars and she still found love with Silverbolt.

"Please no romance-and-war stories. I know that's how I came into being, but I don't want to hear the remarks that come next."

Silverbolt looked away.

"Yes, I think you found them more interesting when you father didn't tur them into lectures," Blackarachnia said.

What Silverbolt said next was the most painful thing for Nightscream to hear, not because it displayed Silverbolt's dislike of him, but of the person most important too hi.

"Darling, I just wanted you to have an honorable path like your mother and I do, but a career journalist…"

All eyes glared on Silverbolt and the bird coughed.

"I'm sure you find honor in what you do," he said in as soft a tone as possible.

"But you don't…" She said.

"Chrysalis, you're father sees journalism as a honor-less scramble to get the biggest story to the news the quickest no matter whose reputation gets hurt along the way. He just can't see it any other way," Blackarachnia said trying to explain her husband's thoughts but ultimately failing to cast them in a sympathetic light as she did not agree with them herself.

Now, Nightscream repeated the thing that got him in trouble with Silverbolt regarding Chrysalis in the first place.

"Sir…" he swallowed, "have you tried looking at it from her perspective?"

Before that comment would have gotten him an insulted, "You're not her father," from the bird. Now it just got an evasive, "She's an adult now—you both are—you don't need my approval."

With Silverbolt's mentioning that neither one of them needed his approval, Nightscream's mind returned to Silverbolt's arguments about why Nightscream couldn't be with his daughter if the bat was pursuing a career in punk rock.

Nightscream had only fought with Optimus Primal and the others because they were the only Cybertronians on the planet to fight Megatron and the sparkles Vehicons. He'd never wanted to be a soldier, but Silverbolt was a true knight or samurai through and through. From whenever he had come on-line in the Beast Wars on prehistoric Earth he'd had that mentality, though from what everyone had said, he was much easier to get along with back then.

Nightscream's thoughts came back to his wife and the present.

"Your approval matters to me, Dad. Not all journalists exploit people to sell stories. You should have enough faith in me to know I wouldn't do that!"

Silverbolt had to make eye contact with his daughter following that sentence.

"I know _you_ wouldn't, dear, but it's too easy to make mistakes in that field."

"And it's too easy to make mistakes in battle too," Nightscream finally found his way in. "I didn't think it was worth breaking Megatron's brainwashing of you when you were Jetstorm."

On hearing that Silverblot put a hand to his temple, stood, and walked out of the room.

"He can't still be worried over that?" Nightscream asked.

"It's part of the problem. He thinks that's the reason why the Oracle chose Cheetor over him, and why the news gives the impression that they are always bickering—well, they are, but that's why."

Nightscream and Chrysalis both starred at Blackarachnia. Chrysalis new her father's hatred of journalist was rooted in his personal negative portrayal, but she never thaught it had anything to do with his time as a Vehicon.

"I thought those wounds had healed."

"I doubt they ever will," Blackarachnia said. You have to remember, he knew Cheetor as essentially a kid during the Beast Wars, and completely missed him becoming Optimus's second-in-command here on Cybertron. Rhinox was the second-in-command he knew, and Ratrap—well Ratrap never really had that good of leadership abilities. The only one from the group that survived the final battle that he's ever been good at taking orders from is me."

For the first time Nightscream felt he could see the old team from Silverbolt's perspective. For himself, Optimus had been like a father, Cheetor like a big brother, Black Arachnia like a big sister, and Ratrap like a favorite uncle. But that wasn't the team as Silverbolt had known it on prehistoric Earth. Jetstorm had missed the reformatting, worked for the other side, and though he had forgiven Blackarachnia on Earth, could not forgive himself here.


	46. 5-4 The Beginning of the End

Cody laughed maniacally, causing Durga and Lwothin to stare at him. LK, the only member of the group incapable of staring, asked "What is that you find so amusing, Master Jones?"

Cody could feel the uneasy eyes that both Durga and Lwothin were giving him. He pittied Durga for getting sucked into this, but he had nothing but contempt for the P'weck. He turned his head to burn a hole through Lwothin's skull with his gaze.

"You are another dirtbag! There is absolutely no difference between you and the Quintessons! They are incredibly old and advanced and think that makes them gods, and you claim that ther is a Higher Power but it's just an extremely old being form the other galaxy. How's he do it? Gene therapy, cybernetics?"

Each question came as rapid fire from a blaster. They were meant to broil the fraudulent the fraudulent saurian to a crisp.

Before Lwothin, could answer Cody spat out a venom-laced, "What trick did he use on Uxils? He was a good Utrom who sacrificed himself for nothing! What did Primus tell him?"

Lwothin looked confused for a moment, then asked "Do you mean the voice that told him life had meaning?"

Cody didn't appear to be listening.

"How did Primus send it?" he bellowed.

"Primus had nothing to do with that."

Cody pulled his arm back, fist ready to strike Lwothin's maw, before the P'weck's words registered with him.

"What?" Cody asked through heaving breaths.

"Primus never gave that message to Uxils. I asked him myself and he knew nothing about it, though he did recount that the same thing once happened to him."

Cody dropped his arm and began breathing raggidly.

"This is a trail of people hearing from someone else! I want proof!"

Lwothin looked to Durga, who was completely confused by what was going on. The Hutt looked at the P'weck, with eyes that opened and closed in what seemed like five second cycles—a Hutt reaction to confusion.

Lwothin closed his own eyes and let out a sigh.

"Cody, you want facts when are searching for faith. It dosen't work that way."

Cody dropped the hostile manner and sat back down.

"Alright" he said calmly. "Why do you believe?"

"The certainty that there is a true right and wrong is one reason. One which you already believe in A power above fallible subjective minds must have ordained them."

Cody looked down holding his forehead. "Wanting to believe something doesn't make it so."

The desperationin his voice reminded him that Lwothin had said nothing deceptive. The raptor-lke sentient had been calm, polite, and open.

"I'm sorry I called you a dirtbag."

"You were in pain. Just don't do it again. But now we must move on to the reason Durga is here, and it is closely related to what Uxils told you."

"What?" the non-saurians asked simultaneously.

"Uxils told you, Cody, that you and the Shredder would be major players in the events on Dathomir. That is beginning to happen right now."

"What's happening on Dathomir has nothing to do with Shredder!" Durga insisted. "The Quintressons are breeding Xenomorphs there!"

Cody looked up at Durga, stunned.

"Xenomorphs? Even the Quintessons should be afraid of them. Why would they do such a thing?"

"They showed me nanites that they were using to control the Xenomorphs. That's how they forced through the their treaty with the Hutt Kajidics."

"That's what we should be focusing on!" Cody said looking at Lwothin.

"Not so fast. Master Jones," LK said. "Master Durga, did you learn anything about Starscream while you were negotiating with the Quintessons?"

"Only that he's dead," Durga offered.

Cody looked from Durga to Lwothin.

"How did you know?"

"Primus told me. His cells are linked to the Chaos Bringer's Spark."

"How is that"—Cody was about to dismiss everything the P'weck said when he remembered—"Starscream was the great evil Muni felt through the Force. Whatever you have to say… _is_ important."

"Actually, no. Starscream was not the great evil that Muni felt—the spark of the Chaos Bringer was. It has changed hosts."

"Shredder…" Cody said slowly.

"Which is what Uxils said to you."

Cody had to admit there was a sudden logic to the P'weck's argument. He wasn't sold yet, but it made sense to along for now.

"So Shredder is Unicron now?"

"No, but he has Unicron's spark, and his Dark Side force abilities are inenhanced as a result. He's beyond even the greatest Dark Lords of the ancient Sith Empire now."

Cody then remembered the things that Atrillo had said to Darth Shadow, and the things Deliberata had said that Quoreal had repeated to them.

"The Quintessons want Shredder this way…why?"

"There is a Force-nexus that intersects Dathomir and Cybertron. If a powerful enough individual can harness it, the Quintessons believe that such a person could control spacetime."

Cody then remembered the initial warning they had heard in the Quintesson science station. "This is how they are going to prevent heat death. No matter who is controlling the nexus it's in their interest to prevent heat death."

Cody stopped for a moment. It might actually be in the universe's best interest to let Shredder succeed.

"If heat death can be prevented, then we should let Shredder go ahead. Then the things that we do will have meaning for our descendants for all eternity. We wouldn't need a higher power."

"But we'd have one anyway," Durga said, prompting Cody and Lwothin to look at him.

"Think about it. If Shredder controls spacetime, he can recreate history in anyway he likes. He will be the one who assigns meaning. Do you really want a universe where Darth Shredder is the higher power?"

The answer for Cody was an obvious no.

"No one except the Sith and the Quintessons want that," Cody said dismissively.

Lwothin nodded. "Fortunately, Unicron does not have that power. Shredder cannot control space time, but he has the potential to poke holes in it through his efforts."

Cody and Durga grew nervous on hearing this. As an endotherm, Cody felt a shiver go dow his spine.

"Stars could go nova or form black holes."

"A threat larger than the Xenomorphs, I'd say," Lwothin said as he calmly sipped his tea.

Durga looked at the calm P'weck, suddenly realizing things.

"You aren't that concerned about what I said, I didn't tell you I was coming, but you said you were expecting me. How?.."

"I think

"Because, Durga Besaadi Tai, you have one of the most far reaching destinies of the the group stranded on Dathomir. And the final chapter begins when we three leave for Dathomir."

Cody was starred at Lwothin.

"How do you know this?"

"How did Uxils know about you and Shredder?"

Cody was still not convinced that he had some kind of predetermined destiny. He wanted to undermine the P'weck before he fully committed himself.

"The only thing you been right about so far is Starscream."

"And Shredder…" Lwothin turned his palm facing upward, as if inviting questions.

"No, we don't know about Shredder, just that the Quintessons need a powerful Force-sensitive. It could be anyone. And you knew Durga was coming because of the news."

Durga made a scoffing noise from deep in his throat. Cody turned and looked at the Hutt.

"Actually, I never announced that I was coming to Cybertron."

Cody felt a deeper chill now.

"Are you Force-sensative?" he asked Lwothin.

"No, I have no abilities to speak of. Force-sensitives are almost nonexistent among my kind."

Cody was trying to keep taking that leap of faith that Lwothin mentioned. Faith was a denial of science, and all that his company was built on was science.

"How did you know?" Cody asked, looking for a non-mystical answer.

"I didn't know. I was given pictures."

Cody knew what he was going to say next.

"In your mind right?"

"You could say that." Another calm sip of tea.

Some of Cody's anger returned. His eyes narrowed.

"I'm not letting you off that easily. There has to be some explanation!"

"Indeed, there is."

"But not one I will except."

"Because you are afraid of the consequences."

"Yeah," Cody said defiantly. "I'm not someone's pawn. I have free will."

"Of course, you have free-will. Asking you to play the part you've been given would be meaningless if you didn't. Shredder had a choice. Uxils tried talking him out of his path, but he chose to embrace his darker destiny anyway."

Cody struggled to understand Lwothin's words, his face contorted with worry.

"What you said..it shouldn't make since. If there is a Higher Power, wouldn't it be more efficient to control our every action?"

"Then we wouldn't have the ability to choose. We would be automatons, with no capacity to truly love our Creator." He looked to LK. "No offense."

"None taken, Master."

"What makes you think that something so high above us even cares that much?"

"That sounds like the Hutt gods," Durga said.

Lwothin stood, and locked eyes with Cody.

"Your time will come, Cody Jones. For now, I would like both of you to walk with me to a specific location in the Cybertronian sewers."

"What's there?" Durga asked.

"There's more than one portal between Cybertron and Dathomir."

* * *

They had been walking for what seemed like hours, taking various turns in dark corridors. It made Cody wonder if his ancestors April O'Neil and Casey Jones had spent hours like in this in the sewers of late twentieth century New York when they worked with the could certainly now empathize with them. He hadn't seen They were tired, hot, and in less than sanitary conditions, but apparently Lwothin had deemed the stealth the sewers gave them worth it. In that regard, Cody was following in the steps of his ancestors, New York had been and still was one of Earth's largest cities, with a maze of sewers beneath. Cybertron, however, was an entire planet, which three and a half decades ago had an entirely artificial surface, covered by mini-cities for virtually the entirety of the planet's circumference. Subterranean passages here could practically lead you all over the planet if you went on long enough.

Suddenly they came to a room with no exits except for the way that they had entered and a door-shaped area that was completely black in color.

"I believe we are here," LK said, in a mixture of enthusiasm and exhaustion.

Cody tried not to laugh at the droid, but the much deeper semi-restrained half-chuckles could only have come from Durga.

They had a right to be amused, Cody supposed. The droid had been locked onto Lwothin's belt the whole time the three organics had been walking, and it sound exhausted.

"Oh, what?!" The droid said in an irritated tone. "Just because I didn't have to walk doesn't mean I like these conditions any more than you do."

Even Lwothin chuckled at that.

"Our journey is about to begin," he said somberly, before laughing, "and the journey to get there is over!"

Lwothin stuck out his nasal-tonges and brought them to the door.

"A semi-tropical forrest wind," he said. "We're in the right place."

He stepped into the blackness.

Once he was gone Cody immediately followed, leaving Durga alone.

Durga stared at the doorway. The way they had just disappeared terrified him. He stood debating with himself whether to follow them or not when Cody yelled, "Hey, Durga come on!"

Durga crawled toward the doorway and tried to constrict as much of his body as possible—easy since he lacked a skeleton. He closed his eyes as he plunged forward and kept them closed until Cody touched his arm and said, "Durga, we're here!"

Durga blinked.

They were in a cave on a mountainside above a thick deciduous forest. Everything felt warm.

"Dathomir?" the Hutt asked.

"Dathomir," the P'weck confirmed.

So far, so good.

"We might even get help. The Grey Jedi received a message I sent about the Xenomorphs…"

Lowthin raised his hand.

"Did you tell anyone else?"

Durga was confused. "Of course, the Kajidics leaked news of this to-

"This is a complication," Lwothin interrupted. "We are now also going to have to deal with Yautja."


	47. 5-5 Ambition Fulfilled

The past few weeks would be unforgettable for the destinies of the two galaxies, the Sith order, the Foot Clan and Darth Shredder himself had changed forever. He had only to thank the imbecilic nature of Darth Shadow and Starscream's machinations.

Shredder hald walked out to the landing platform from the Foot Clan headquarters in New York City on Earth, from when his master had been trying to organize an anti-Quentesson political movement. For his master to have summoned him to the landing platform they must be expecting an arrival. The evening sun draped the city in a golden hue as Shredder looked out. Far in the distance he noticed something that looked out of place—a twentieth century earth jetfighter coming closer.

 _Starscream_.

"Lord Shredder," Shadow snapped, bringing the Triceraton's attention back to Sith Master, "Our ally approaches. Treat him respectfully."

Shredder nodded and said nothing—outwardly at least. Inwardly he knew this was the stupidest idea his master could have. Shadow knew Milky way history. What made him believe he could trust Starscream?

Soon the Decepticon landed and transformed.

"Darth Shadow," Starscream bowed.

"Thank you for responding to my call, Air Commander. Now that the two galaxies have met, I believe your plan can be enacted without the further assistance of the Quintessons."

A smile spread across Starscream's grey silicon face.

"Is Darth Shredder's training complete then?"

"No, I'm afraid my apprentice has much to learn," Shadow jerked his head to look at Shredder and narrowed his eyes, "He can't see past the interests of his precious Foot Clan to achieve focus his hatred on our true enemies."

Shadow had no right to snarl at him like that. Shadow was the one couldn't see past the loss of his daughter to focus on building the Sith as an organization. He was mistaken about Shredder though. Four and a half years of deflecting Force lighting and breaking off Force-Chokes had built up his abilities to the point of rivalling Shadow's. The number Foot ninja who'd incurred Darth Shredder's displeasure could testify that he was a master of these techniques himself, or rather, their dead bodies could. He remembered Darth Shadow's abilities to manipulate tree branches and vines to trap him back on Dathomir. He had tested his own abilities along these lines in isolated wooded areas. He also knew how to use the Force to enhance his own stealth skills with Ninjustsu. But had he once been allowed to put his skills with the Force or a lightsaber to use in the service of Sith goals? No. He involved himself in Foot matters because that was all his master let him involve himself in.

"So, if Shredder is not ready, why have you summoned me here?" Starscream asked.

"Shredder may not be ready, but I am. I can be the powerful Force-user you need to control spacetime. I will ensure the destiny of the Sith and prevent Galvatron from destroying you all those years ago. You will lead the Decepticons for all eternity. All I need is to know if you agree to these terms."

Starscream began to laugh softly.

"What have I said that is so funny?" the Sith Master asked. Shredder saw his opening.

"It's obvious, fool!" Shadow jerked his head when his apprentice insulted him.

"Do you think Starscream will be content ruling the Decepticons when he could have all spacetime at his fingertips? Your brains have started to go, Shadow. Fortunately, you have been such an insufferable jerk, you have given me something far better than any of your half-baked strategies!"

As the master was about to respond the apprentice Force-choked him. Shadow tried to fire Force-lightening at Shredder, but the Triceraton deflected it with his Katana-shaped lightsaber.

"My turn!"

The lightning flowed out of Shredder's finger tips and made Shadow's skeleton visible beneath his clothing as skin as it cycled through him.

Shadow embraced the pain as he tried to Force-Choke Shredder to death, but the Triceraton only embraced that pain and sent out a more powerful torrent.

Shadow struggled to reach his lightsaber, but he could not bring himself to do anything but writhe on the floor.

Starscream smiled and chuckled as the episode played out. Shredder's training was indeed complete.

Shredder stop the Force-lightning long enough for his weakened master to say, "Just as I have foreseen." Shadow smiled and drifted off into unconsciousness.

Shredder could tell his master still lived, but he judged the massive Decepticon to the be the bigger threat.

Starscream clapped.

"Well done, Lord Shredder. You have obtained the exact level of Force ability I need."

Starscream's spark, a blue ball of energy with black spots left his body. Shredder knew exactly what those black spots were.

"The essence of Unicron."

"And now _I_ will have the one thing Unicron wanted most since the beginning," Starscream's disembodied voice echoed as the spark pulsated. It then launched itself into Shredder's body, leaving the apprentice as stunned as his master, physically at least.

On a mental battlefield Starscream and Shredder alone existed, surrounded by a lightless, lifeless void.

"You have become the Sith I needed you to be Shredder. Unicron needed an organic Force-sensitive body from the very beginning, and now you are that body."

Starscream extended a hand and a tunnel of energy shot from Starscream's palm to Shredder's chest. The Sith Lord doubled over in pain as he felt pieces of himself being absorbed.

"This is Unicron's ability to devour planets on a much smaller scale," Starscream explained. "Not even a Dark Lord a skilled as Palpatine could have resisted it. When it is finished everything that makes you you will be mine!"

The fool had just told Shredder how to win. Shredder reached out with the Force to the pieces of himself that were joining Starscream's spark. When he could feel Unicron, he began to pull back and take the Chaos Bringer with him.

Starscream felt the flow of energy redirect itself.

"What are you doing!?"

Shredder stood. "Taking the powers of the Chaos Bringer." Starscream yelled and protested but Zed Ram's thoughts went elsewhere with the more of Unicron he absorbed. He remembered all the inferiority he felt when he comared his own body with his great-grandfather Monza the gladiator's, all the years of Krang telling him he was useless, all the years of Shadow telling him the same thing. Suddenly his eyes burned fire red.

"Not anymore."

He no longer saw Starscream's form before him, merely his spark, stripped of all traces of Unicron. Now he slashed with each hand and tore the spark to pieces until he split its core.

Shredder opened his eyes to see Shadow standing above him, crimson blade to his throat. This was no matter now, Shredder chuckled. His chuckling grew louder and with a wave of his hand Shadow's lightsaber deactivated itself. Shadow staggered backward as Shredder raised himself to a sitting and then a standing position.

There was a look that seemed out of place on his former master's face—fear.

"Gp ahead," Shadow said betraying a confidence that was still in place at his core. "It's the way of the Sith."

Shredder ignited his lightsaber, but then he just stared at it, studying it.

"This red is the blood of the kyber crystals. Do you remember what you told me about why they bleed?"

Shadow nodded.

"We violently bend them to our will, but if I do this…" he made a grasping motion with his free hand and Shadow felt as if a piece of his own Force connection was being ripped away.

The Faleen/Zabrak hybrid looked with confusion at his former apprentice.

Shredder released Shadow and held his blade horizontally.

"Now if I rearrange the molecules in what I took from you, and turn them into something toxic…"

The crimson started to grow purple and then dark blue—not the blue of a Jedi's lightsaber, but the blackish-blue of deoxygenated human blood.

Shredder looked at the blade and began to cackle like a maniac.

Darth Shadow had wanted to use Shredder's delay for a chance to kill him since he wasn't completing the Sith ritual needed to become the next Dark Lord, but Shadow realized that now Shredder didn't need to. He could kill Shadow anytime he wanted and was having more fun tormenting him.

Shredder stopped cackling Force-jerked his former master's skull so that Shadow was staring directly into Shredder's now crimson eyes.

"You were going to kill me while I was unconscious from my duel with Starscream and take Unicron's spark into your own body."

Shadow tried to nod.

"Fool! You always sabotage your own efforts. All the insults and underestimating, and your obsessive vendetta against the Quintessons—they all pushed me, fed my desire to supplant you, gave me the strength I needed to scrape Unicron away from Starscream and split the Decepticon's spark apart. And now thanks to your mistreatment, I'm the greatest Sith ever. I have truly achieved the Rule of One," Shredder reached into Shadow's mind, "but, this is what you wanted from me isn't it?"

* * *

Shredder had now Unicron-enhanced Force abilities for almost a month. Crossing the wormhole was something he had done routinely as Shadow's apprentice, but this was the first time he had done so as the Chaos Bringer, and this was the first time Shadow accompanied him. Once they were in Dathomiri system, Shredder powered down his ships engines. He looked to his former master and current minion in the co-pilot seat.

"Your home for so many years, known to the Sith for millennia, but none of us knew its true potential and relevance until me."

"Please, enlighten me," Shadow, now lacking face paint, said trying to feign interest. There was no way Shadow could now tap into that power for himself.

"It's something the Sith have wanted since the foundation of the order, the ultimate goal of Sith alchemy: to manipulate the fabric of reality itself. Remember that ceremony Sidious wanted to conduct with Vader—the one you were supposed to be a stand in for should anything happen to either of them?"

"How could I forget?" It had been Sidious's preoccupation with this ceremony that had governed his decisions as emperor and lead to the Sith's near extinction after Endor.

"Well," Shredder said, "Nothing Sidious or any of the previous Dark Lords conceived of could have yielded the results they wanted. The Force connections that are opened only by possessing Unicron's spark are required. And it can only be done from a very specific location on Dathomir."

Shredder started laughing. He looked at Shadow.

"It's not just the Sith, you know? The Predacon Megatron wanted the same thing—to reshape reality. But where all of them failed, I'm going to succeed."

There was silence. Shadow didn't need to say anything.

"You think I'm delusional? My dear former master, you must recognize the fact that I possess two things simultaneously that no one who embarked down this path before ever did, including Unicron himself?"

"And those would be?" Shadow let a little annoyance show in his voice. He'd guessed Shredder wouldn't be angry, and he'd guessed correctly.

"I have an organic Force-sensative body, which Megatron never had; I have Unicron's spark which no previous Sith Lord ever had; and I have both at the same time which Unicron himself never had. Surely you have to see that that makes me different."

Shadow chose his next words carefully.

"You certainly have more potential than any of us…"

"And I'm not going to squander it!" Shredder's eyes narrowed. "Everything must be done in a precise order. We can't land on Dathomir just yet."

Shadow nodded.

"Oh, don't worry, you'll get your revenge on Deliberata, but I have uses for the other Quintessons. Their research has a key part to play in Unicron's plan. For now, we will leave them to their designs. Quoreal is waiting for us on Nar Shadaa. He also wants revenge and a Chaos Bringer needs a herald."


	48. 5-6 Honor

The head Elder's body length golden scepter clanged against the marble-like floor from the raised dais from whence he and the rest of the council ruled over the Yautja now present. All eyes turned to the Elder at the staff's clanging. He was an impressive figure: unbowed by age, cape on his back, white dreadlocks that extended from his head to his waist, and sharp tusks on his mandibles. Because the Yautja wore very little clothing, it was easy to see that the Elder was as muscular as a hunter centuries his junior. His very presence in the room commanded all to recognize his authority.

"This is not the time to bicker amongst ourselves. The fat slugs on the other side of the wormhole spread word that the Quintessons have brought the _kiande amedha_ to the new galaxy. They are breeding the parasite on the forest world of Dathomir."

"What folly!" A warrior cried out from the crowd on the floor. "The parasite cannot be controlled! Do the spineless cyborgs seek to destroy themselves!"

The Elder banged his scepter once more and let out a loud roar that quelled the warriors into submission.

No longer needing to stand the Elder sat down on his throne.

"Underestimating our prey is the deadliest mistake a warrior can make. The Quintessons have lived longer than any species in either galaxy. They now the nature of the _kainde amedha_ as well as we do. They would not risk themselves. Something more sinister is a foot here. There compound must be taken and their program destroyed. We need send only a small team before another clan does. Your trophies will be dismembered tentacles and Sharkticon tails."

The Yautja warriors all grumbled at this paltry offering for prey when a lone voice shouted above the others, "Heed the voice of the Elder!"

The great crowd of Hunters turned in on themselves to look at one who had snuck in. He alone had worn a mask which he now removed.

"Baron Samedi!" The Elder hissed sending spittle flying. "You dare to return to this conclave of honored warriors!?"

"And you dare to hide behind a new mask?!" A Yautja with a scar running down one side of his face and a glazed eye said.

"I know where I am not welcome!" Yeyinde said as he tossed the mask back to the scarred warrior.

"Then why does one with no honor come among the honored?" The Elder let his gaze, both icy and fiery at the same time fall on the Badblood.

"I said I am not welcome. I did not say I have no honor."

The warriors all began laughing and pelted insults at Yeyinde.

Finally, Yeyinde broke and screamed back, "Why does valuing life mean I have no honor?" Now all the eyes that had so firmly rested on the Elder turned to the Badblood.

"I saw a family loose its father because of my actions!" These words he shouted, but the rest, he spoke in normal voice. "I felt exhilaration and pride tracking his movements, satisfaction when I made the killer blow, but I felt something very different when I heard the cries of his mate and children. I felt shame. I knew what they felt like because the Utrom Krang had done the same thing to my mother. Many times the hunt is necessary to rid our universe of evil, but to kill the powerful only to impress ourselves and our mates with our own strength—and leave widows and children, or parents, behind to grieve…this is not honor, this is self-serving ego."

"So says one with no trophies to prove his courage!" the scarred Hunter said.

The Elder then clanged his staff against the floor once more. "He has proven his skill multiple times. You may accuse him of many dishonors, but cowardice is not among them!" The Elder let his gaze rest on Yeyinde. "Speak to us, Badblood who views the prey as our equals, why have you come?"

Yeyinde felt the gaze of the entire chamber fall on him. It was the moment the Hunter had been waiting for.

"This is one of the times that the Hunt is needed for the safety of the universe. You say I am wrong to call weaker species our equals? Then we are less than the Quintessons for they have brought ancient Yautja and ancient _Oomans_ to the other galaxy. Do not doubt their ability to control the _kiande amedha_. They are not stupid enough to bring them over without a plan. In fact it _is_ their plan that we should fear."

The Elder stood violently and expelled a froth of spit and air from his mouth. He pointed a finger at Yeyinde.

"You even dare to suggest that the Quintessons are superior to the Yautja?!"

Yeyinde was not phased. He seemed to grow a meter taller when he calmly said, "Their technology is unquestionably superior, which is why we should be wary. What I have learned of them in the other galaxy proves their reach extends much farther than we thought. We have to send a team to the forest world and destroy the breeding facility before any _kiande amedha_ hatch. Their technology is superior, but our courage can overcome it."

The Elder took a step backward and sat on his throne, suddenly feeling his immense age.

He gasped, "What you have said is wise, the mind of a Hunter who understands his prey. Why do you not return to our ways if you know we can overcome beings like the Quintessons?"

Neither the Elder nor the Badblood seemed like giants now, but merely two ordinary Yautja talking.

"Because I have seen that same courage that will enable us to overcome the Quintessons technology used against us by prey. If we do not hunt one another, why do we make prey who have demonstrated that they have the same depth of courage more prized trophies?"

All of the conclave of warriors were now whispering to one another.

"I will hunt and I will kill, but I will not murder. That is my honor."

The Elder's decision was final: Yeyinde would lead two other Hunters to destroy the breeding facility on the Quintessons' Dathomiri base. Many still saw Yeyinde as a Badblood, but he was still the hero of the hour—something that permitted him an audience he wanted for more than two centuries.

* * *

Yeyinde could not see the palace's golden tiles in his natural infrared spectrum and for that reason he did not care. He could tell the elegant design of the spire and the multiple brick platforms, but even that was not important. He likewise did not care when the guards searched him and removed all his weapons. The true purpose of his visit and the purpose of that faitful hunt he had on earth was inside the building.

The guards led him to a room where an aging Yautja female of the lower nobility sat on a throne. It was not elevated above the rest of the room as the thrones in the Elder's council had been, but the female sitting upon it was just as intimidating.

Jewlery strewn in her dreadlocks, flaxen fabric on her chest and extending from her waist to the space between her feet—the clothing of a female Yautja: the mother of his mate.

"Remove your mask, Samedi. I know it is you."

The Hunter complied.

"So, you wish to approach my daughter _before_ your hunt? I know that you question our sense of morality, so do you also think that one should be free to engage in carnal pleasures just because one has the natural mood to do so?"

"I would never hold your daughter so cheaply, milady," Yeyinde said, striking a shoulder with his fist.

"What possible business could you have here then? You have already caused enough trouble for my granddaughter. When you became a Badblood, your daughter became less valuable in the eyes of young hunters. She has yet to conceive a child and continue her lineage, because of the shame you have attached to her."

Yeyinde knew that his decisions had hurt his daughter. The daughter of a Badblood would not attract that many eligible Hunters. But he could not betray his morals even for family.

"I seek only to visit your daughter, my child's mother, milady. I wish to speak with her before" departing on the hunt."

"Surely, you know that it will take more than a few paltry trophies to win the right to someone of her blood back."

"I wish only to say that I've missed her and ask about our daughter."

The matriarch trilled in her throat, as she considered the Badblood's request. It was his fault that her granddaughter was growing up as an undesirable. Perhaps he had a duty to check-up on her.

"Your daughter is at the market right now, and I will not tolerate your presence here for more than an hour, but my daughters is here and you may speak to her about the problems you've caused and how to fix them."

Yeyinde hurriedly bowed and struck his shoulder, offering his most profound thanks.

* * *

The door opened. Dahdtoudi, seated on her bed, stared out her window as the cooling colors of evening rose with the setting sun, hearing Yeyinde approach before she looked at him. There had been a true passion between them that went beyond the duties of a noble female and successful Hunter to preserve their genes. He had won her heart when he rose above his orphan status to bring back one of the most difficult _kiande amedha_ trophies in history. She felt for him as though he were a hero out of one of the epic poems, sympathizing with his desire for revenge on Krang and coming to share that desire herself. At that point, she saw beyond the hero to see the wounded boy and he became real to her. She could completely understand why he renounced hunting innocents, and did not even count that as something to forgive. What she could not forgive, however, was his going public with it and the shame that brought on their daughter.

"Dahdtoudi," he said slowly.

She spun around to look at him.

"Why did you do it?" she asked, the words like knives touching raw nerves.

"I could not betray my honor, you know that!" he made a defensive blocking motion with his hand before an aggressive sweep.

"Ha!" she scoffed, "You are exactly like those vainglorious Yautja males you despise who shed innocent blood to attain their honor, considering what you have done to our daughter!"

Yeyinde froze. He had no comeback.

"It was never supposed to hurt her," the excuse sounded pathetic to him even as it left his mouth.

"No," Dahdtoudi said slowly as she rose. "Her future was less important to you than making your grand speech to the Elders." She walked toward him as she spoke.

Yeyinde stooped seeing Dahdtoudi as her words sank in. He was more than two hundred years in the past, seeing his defiant statement as if through the eyes of another.

"All I could think about was the injustice of our hunts…I didn't think of our family…"

It wasn't an apology. It wasn't even an excuse. It was a simple statement of recognition, and with that Yeyinde felt a sense of shame he had not felt since he killed the man on earth. He had destroyed another family—his own. He had always blamed the corrupt Yautja beliefs about the hunt—never his own actions.

He turned in a semi-circle as he gasped and held the doorway.

"It is a little late to be feeling shame," Dahdtoudi said.

She was right. She usually was. There were so many other ways he could have expressed his beliefs without jeopardizing his daughter. Many Yautja dissented from particular parts of the hunt but still operated in the system as a whole. In a way, by working as a bounty hunter, that was what he had always done, he'd just never realized it.

He looked away from his one-time mate and said solemnly with a touch of pain, "I have been very foolish. What can I do in the here and now that will help Dachandi?"

Finally, he was turning his attention somewhere productive.

Very sternly, Dahdtoudi said, "Whatever you do on the other side of the wormhole, make sure that they see you as worthy. Then and only then will people begin to see her as worthy."


	49. 5-7 Heralds

Mirta and Meewal looked down on the podium where the Arbiter had just signed the treaty with the Hutt Kajidics.

"It is a different galaxy isn't it?" Mirta said, more a statement than a question.

Meewal nodded.

"You said that my faith in the Quintesson's ordered society was misplaced, but you have not been shy about flaunting your alliance with them."

Meewal closed her eyes and chuckled for a moment, then keeping her gaze on the podium, said "I know how to ally with them without becoming them. I might need them to unify Honoghr, but Honoghr will not have a caste sytem."

"Your loss," Mirta said.

She turned to look at Meewal in the face.

"How is your son, Khabarakh?"

"He is happy, healthy, and proceeding very well with his training."

"Training?" Mirta arched her eybrows. "He's only four."

"Noghri master control of their movements at far earlier ages than humans do, and the elders are determined to make stealth assassins out of everyone in the clan save the Maitrakh," Meewal said in a mixture of pride and sadness.

She could command legions of stealth assassins, but she could not be one.

Mirta tried to give her an encouraging smile.

"'Noghri' and 'assassin' aren't synonyms, y'know?"

Meewal shook her head and laughed.

"No, but you think that in a species which is a near synonym for 'assassin', a lader should have that skill more than anyone else?"

"Even I'm not as powerful as I would wish," Mirta admitted. "Shadow, Shredder, and Nightscream are all still alive and—" she stopped herself. Meewal was the one who deserved revenge. Rukh had been her husband.

"I wish I could snap Darth Shadow's spine with my bear hands!" She slowly inhaled before screaming her murderous intent.

"You might be able to if you are interested in staying for a while," a new voice said.

They turned around to Hexato ascending the stairs.

Before Meewal could address the Quintesson scientist about what she had said the latter spoke to Mirta.

"Mirta, you have been out of the field as a warrior for too long. Report to the medical dome for an evaluation."

Mirta was still trying to piece together what this sudden change meant. The confusion was apparent in her eyes as she spoke back to Hexato.

"Hexato, the Arbiter appointed me the Quintesson ambassador to Mandalore. I'm not going back to the field, as far as I know."

Hexato bobbed her head. "Now you know. The Arbiter just received a communiqué before the conference. He's reallocating resources. You are a soldier, he feels you would better be of service in that capacity."

Mirta was confused. Yes, she was a Warrior by training, but she did not understand why she was being removed from a post where she had effectively served the Empire.

"Doesn't my status as a native of Concord Dawn make me the ideal representative of the Quintesson Empire to Mandalorian space?"

Hexato dared not give her own opinion. "I'm sorry, but these are the Arbiter's orders."

* * *

The last of the dignitaries had left and Alðerata was comfortably behind his desk when the door chimed.

"Enter," he said, wearing his neutral Face of Doubt.

Mirta Rau stepped into his office.

"Our medical staff confirms that you are in ideal health, but you are no doubt confused as to why I have changed your assignment."

His words hit the mark so exactly that for a moment, she believed him to a telepath, but then he'd appointed her ambassador and he was the one who had abruptly changed her assignment. He didn't need to read minds to tell why she was there.

"Exactly, Supreme Arbiter. I thought the empire was satisfied with my work on Mandalore."

"Indeed, we were, but our needs have evolved."

Her mouth opened slightly. How could an empire's needs evolve so rapidly in such a short period of time?

He raised a tentacle, which silenced her.

"These plans are not sudden. We have considered them for some time, and I received a communiqué this morning that let me know now is the time. Your unique background makes me believe that you are the ideal selection for the position in question."

Mirta took the seat across the desk from Alðerata.

"Please, Your Honor, tell me about this assignment."

Alðerata rotated to his skeletal Face of Death, a face only used when a final judgment had been reached or a matter of the gravest import was being discussed.

"You know of our long history with the Chaos Bringer Unicron?"

Mirta nodded.

"Part of his grand scheme revolved around this planet. Now with the wormhole stabilized, all he needs is a strong Force-sensitive host."

Alðerata let the air grow heavy with silence for a moment to add to the impact of his words.

"Starscream is dead."

Mirta saw the cause for alarm.

"Unicron is free to take a new host," she gasped.

"He already has, per the communiqué."

Mirta understood everything now.

"I will do my part to thwart Unicron's schemes, Supreme Arbiter."

The Arbiter switched to his Face of Anger.

"You will do no such thing!"

Mirta was more confused now than ever.

"This," Alðerata held up a tentacle, "is how we beat Heat Death, by allowing Unicron to succeed and then wresting control from him."

Ashamed of her enthusiasm, Mirta nodded and said, "I'm sorry, Excellency."

"As well you should be," Alðerata ranted. "Twelve million years of careful planning could hinge on how well you execute my orders."

Alðerata sighed and switched to his Face of Doubt.

"Unicron always chooses a herald and a support team for that herald. It is our intention that you become that herald and become psychically linked to Unicron, and we want a Noghri on your support team. Together, you will overpower Unicron and bind him to our will."

Mirta felt a chill go down her spine.

"Sir, if Unicron is as powerful…"

"But he won't be Unicron. He will be a confused Force-user."

* * *

Tesar and Muni had arrived with the delegates for the signing of the treaty, a diplomatic cover for their true mission. Muni felt that the mission was really beginning when his master was speaking to one of the Quintesson guards as the delegates were leaving. Something about this guard was familiar…chillingly familiar.

"Of course, Master Sebatyne. We only want the well-being of all sentient beings in the known universe, but we can understand that with your galaxy's history with the Empire, the First Order, and the Yuuzhan Vong, our sudden imposition of a treaty on the Hutts could seem dangerous, but I assure you, nothing, here poses any threat to the Republic."

That voice…Atrilo!

"You confuse these ones with the old Jedi. These ones are Grey Jedi and do not serve the Republic," Master Sebatyne said.

His words sounded distant to Muni, who was overcome with fear at meeting the Quintesson who had once talked about using his powers.

Tesar noticed his apprentice's nervousness.

 _Be mindful, young Human. Caution is good, but terror leads to mistakes._

Muni calmed himself and said, "Oh, I'm sorry, Master. It's just that the conference was so long and I'm in need of a 'fresher."

That was code. Muni had no need to go to the bathroom, but he did have need to get to a private area with access to the ventilation ducts. He and Master Sebatyne had been over this with the limited schematics they had for the compound. All of the domes seemed to share a common heating system.

"Please excuse this one's apprentice while you and this one discuss those intentions that you are allowed to discuss."

Atrilo nodded and Muni raced down the hallway.

Now the Quintesson Warrior and Grey Jedi Knight were alone.

She gazed over the Knight for a minute trying to remember the species. At first she struggled but then she found the right information.

"You are a Barabel, correct?"

"Yes, this one is," Tesar said in a tone that invited the Quintesson to continue with her line of questioning.

"Matriarchal saurian race from the borders of Hutt Space, frequently employed as bounty hunters or guards…this treaty will affect many of your kind."

"Indeed, it will, but this one's people will adapt. They are very resourceful."

Atrilo nodded. "Still, it seems unlikely that a Barabel would become a Jedi."

The hall was now clearing and Atrilo began hovering toward the opposite end gesturing for Tesar to follow her.

"It is not so unusual. The Quintessons are newcomers, but the respect this one's kind has for the Jedi goes back to the days of the Old Republic. Many Jedi acquired much honor among the Barabel."

"And their new 'Grey' philosophy is appealing to Force-sensitive Barabels such as yourself," Atrilo's voice was thick with snobbery.

Tesar snorted, and Atrilo stopped in her tracks.

"Not all Barabel are criminals. This one is a Jedi like his mother before him." Tesar felt his chest heave and realized he need to let his anger dissipate. He was here as a diplomat after all.

"Balance between emotions does not mean balance between good and evil."

Atrilo laughed. "Good and evil are subjective terms. There are only individuals, feelings, and actions. Aren't they all part of the Force?"

Tesar had no comeback.

* * *

While his master was keeping Atrilo busy, Muni set to work. Using the Force to move a grate in the ceiling out of place, jump into the hole and move the grate back, he had climbed into a ventilation duct, followed the structure until it led to a drop, used the Force to ease his descent, and followed the paths beneath the buildings. While on the surface he had payed attention to which building had had the most Quintesson Scientists going and coming from it—in the northeast quadrant. Muni knew that the building he'd left had been in the center of the compound and that he'd been following passage ways that mostly led north from the southeast corner. He was the right track so far.

On the right track, but highly pressed for time. He was supposed to be in a restroom, and he could only be absent so long for that to be credible. His only hope right now lay with enhancing his speed with the Force and his Master's circumlocutions of always referring to himself as "This one." A conversation could go on a long time when someone never used "I" or "we." Still he had to hurry.

He was crawling over another grate when he saw what he thought he was looking for: Xenomorph eggs suspended in a blue liquid with Quintesson scientists making injections in them.

He heard a door slide open and a harsh voice, "Have you finished with the nanites and the midichlorians yet?"

Deliberata.

"They will need a few more rounds of injections, and, of course, the hosts, but we should have controllable Force-sensitive Xenomorphs in three Dathomiri solar cycles."

Inquiriata.

"You, idiot! We don't have that long! The Arbiter received a communiqué today. Unicron has a new host—an organic Force-user! We need to be able to overpower him, to bend his mind with our own heralds!"

"I'm sorry, Magistrate, but you know the process cannot be rushed or we will have the parasites to deal with and they are a bigger threat than Unicron. He is rational, they aren't!"

Muni felt his chest grow cold. Quintesson control over the Xenomorphs was a scarier prospect than Unicron, especially when the latter could no longer devour worlds. The parasites could practically do that with enough numbers.

"I already have spent my time in Hutt space collecting the hosts. Guns for hire, who understand nothing of what we're doing. The Supreme Arbiter is already trying to prepare heralds for Unicron, to control him that way. But we need these Xenomorphs to be our own heralds that the Chaos Bringer knows nothing about."

"Understood, Magistrate, and the process is almost done."

Muni crawled back from the vent, when he heard a message through the Force.

 _Muni, return to this one. Atrilo wants to know what is taking so long_.


	50. 5-8 The Hunt

Yautja ships had had cloaking technology for millennia. As time passed, the technology became more refined. Secrecy was important to the hunt. You could not track and study your prey, if your prey was studying and tracking you. Just as the nets and armor that cloaked the Hunters became more advanced as they adapted to counter species who saw in different spectrums, so too did their ships cloaking devices evolve with each encounter with new technology. This enabled Yeyinde's party of himself and two blooded warriors to enter Cybertronian space with no detection from the Maximals and enter the wormhole with no detection from the Quintessons.

Yeyinde felt slight turbulence as their ship landed in a clearing beside a mountain. The Quintesson command compound would not be far away, judging by their view on the descent.

"Cut power to the engine," Yeyinde said to Blade, the younger of his two companions.

Blade was about two centuries old, and could obviously have only been hunting for one. The young one was both awed by Yeyinde and confused by him at the same time, telling him that if he had not become a Badblood he would be an honored Elder Hunter by now. He had had to inform the youth once more that he had no desire to kill innocent sentients. That only served to get the youth talking about the various non- and semi-sentient beasts of the Rakata Galaxy like Whampas, Rancors, Sarlaacs, Dianogas, and Goraxes.

The other Hunter, the scarred one who had challenged him earlier, had to mention that he found sentient prey a fuller challenge due to their intelligence.

Just now with their landing he declared, "I must return here after our mission. My spear thirsts for Yuuzhan Vong, Ssi-ruuk, or Noghri blood."

The last species brought a curl to Yeyinde's mandibles.

"Do you realize how much smaller an adult Noghri is than an adult Yautja? Even if there were merit in hunting sentients for sport, what sport is there in so one-sided a contest?"

Scar rotated his chair to look at Yeyinde. The gaze from his one good eye was intense.

"You said one carried an adult _Ooman_ male out of a sorcerers' coven? The deception of their small stature is what makes them deadly. Didn't tiny bears with small sticks bring down a mighty empire in this galaxy?"

Yeyinde hesitated to answer, unsure if Scar was speaking hypothetically or really wanted justification to hunt Ewoks. It was Blade that got his attention.

"Baron Samedi," the young Hunter refused to call him by any other name, "Surely you realize that we only hunt beings whom we have some form of respect for? By challenging the greatest beings and succeeding, we become greater ourselves. If we did not already view them as great and deserving of respect, why would we take the risks in hunting them?"

Yeyinde let out an exasperated sigh. He been around other Hunters long enough to know that whatever respect Hunters gave to prey it was only as a way of assigning trophies more value. He was eager to get on with their mission.

He stood.

"We've landed. Don your armor, cloak, and meet me outside."

While the other two were gathering their equipment, Yeyinde felt the outlines of his mask. It was mostly featureless apart from the eyes; the part that covered the crown of his head was a simple dome, while the part that covered his mouth had a slight angle to it. All utilitarian, nothing decorative. Once placed the mask on his face and turned on the eyes' advanced functions, he carefully studied Blade and Scar's masks. The youth had indentations on his mask's mouth area shaped like pointed teeth. Scar's mask had a long and wide gash on the same side of his face as his real scar. The purpose of the masks' appearance was to scare potential prey, though often the Yautja's real face was far more terrifying. In any event, the _kiande amedha_ were hard to scare, so stylistics counted for little in Yeyinde's opinion.

When everyone had their armor secure, Yeyinde announced, "It's time for the Hunt to begin. Engage cloak."

All three hunters pressed a button on their control gauntlets. Yeyinde toggled through visual spectrums to make sure they were invisible to _kiande amedha_ eyes. Quintesson eyes could also toggle and, hence, harder to deceive.

Yeyinde walked down the ramp of the cloaked ship with the others following in a triangular pattern.

"The Quintesson compound is within the forest that way," Yeyinde pointed due north.

"You are the expert on this world," Scar said. This was the first time the one-eyed hunter had said anything positive to Yeyinde, though this was a simple admission of facts.

"I saw the compound on our descent. I've never been in this forest before. The island and the desert were much warmer."

Yautja did not often complain about climate, but the truth was they preferred tropical ones. Their size gave them a degree of endothermy so that internal body temperatures were always higher than the air around them, but just what that body temperature would be varied wildly depending on the air temperature. It would drop drastically in polar zones and be lower than normal in temperate zones—shifts so wild they would kill an entirely endothermic lifeform. The netting that covered most of the Yautja's body helped them to maintain a comfortable internal temperature no matter the environment, but the simple truth was the Yautja preferred the tropics, where the netting did not have to do as much work.

As the three hunters walked through the temperate Dathomiri forest, a cry from multiple animals broke the silence and drew their attention.

"Probably a Rancor," Yeyinde observed and instantly realized his mistake.

"After we shut down the breeding facility, I say we stay and hunt some down," Scar said.

"Yes, that is perfect. We will have some of the first Yautja trophies brought back from this galaxy," Blade seconded.

"Let's finish the mission first," Yeyinde reminded them.

* * *

Nightscream was just returning to Silverbolt's office after inspecting the troops that would be accompanying them to Dathomir. He and Silverbolt were the only fliers, like in the old days. Ratrap was also there to hack into the Quintesson security network—again like the old days. The rest of the party were mostly new faces. Nightscream had not learned their names yet and for now remembered them by their beast mode. Cybertron's own fossil record, from where most of the beast modes originated, was not well known so Nightscream noted them by their nearest Earth equivalent—an elephant, a lobster, a very large ant, and a Predicon shark. It was rare to see a Predicon in the Cybertronian armed forces so Nightscream did catch the shark's name as Skybite.

Nightscream tapped the chime on Silverbolt's door.

"Enter," his father-in-law said.

Nightscream proceeded and took the seat opposite Silverbolt.

"Your 'bots appear to be well trained," Nightscream said.

Sliverbolt was still reading a file on the computer screen and merely mad a "hrmph," noise before he actually processed Nightscream's words.

"Yes, they are. I've drilled discipline and efficiency into each of their frameworks, and we'll need that on the mission, And plenty of stealth. If Cheetor is so concerned about the minutiae of this mission," Silverbolt tapped the computer screen and swiveled it around briefly enough for Nightscream to catch a lengthy body of text, "he should be leading this mission himself instead of spending all that day in talks with the Quintesson Arbiter."

Nightscream was confused for a minute.

"Sir, I thought you were a better soldier than Cheetor? Isn't he making a good choice by putting you in charge?"

"I am a better soldier, but for some reason the Matrix chose him as Prime, and a Prime should lead."

Nightscream sighed. Cheetor just couldn't win with Silverbolt.

"The only thing I will credit the cat with is not using the wormhole."

Nightscream's jaw dropped. If they didn't cross the wormhole, they would be unable to reach Dathomir!

"Without the wormhole, we can't get there!"

"Relax, Nightscream," Silverbolt said it and intended it as an order. "A panicked mind rarely produces useful thoughts, and I will not tolerate panic on my mission. Now as to your confusion, the Oracle has shown our beloved Prime that there are many site to site portals between this world and that one."

Nightscream was relieved to hear that but a few questions remained.

"How come we've never heard of the before?"

"Before Optimus, few Cybertronians knew for certain that the Oracle existed. I suspect the same is true with these portals. After all, they are all underground."

"So, the Quintessons can't track our movements. Brilliant move by our leader."

"He didn't come up with it, the Oracle did," Silverbolt said in a tone that revealed he was even more disgusted with Nightscream than he was with Cheetor.

"You are even more of a child than he is," Silverbolt said disparagingly. "You think you can turn your back on service to Cybertron and suddenly be worthy of my daughter…"

"I was never a soldier!" Nightscream shouted back. "No one in our group was! We were just the only ones Megatron hadn't infected." Nightscream caught himself. "Well, he did infect you. My first memories of you are of a psychotic Vehicon jet destroying my home."n

Silverbolt looked at Nightscream with rage building up in his eyes. The young one was bringing up the worst part of his life, the part he wanted to forget. After a long silence, he spoke.

"How dare you!"

"How dare _I_?" Nightscream asked calmly enough. " _You_ were the attacker."

Silverbolt closed his eyes.

"I know. My spark had been ripped out of me, twisted by Megatron and put into a new body. You lost a place where you had been hiding. My inmost being had been taken apart and rearranged. I was raped! Rhinox, Waspinator, and I were the biggest victims in that scenario, so yes, _hero_ ," Silverbolt emphasized the last word, "'How dare _you_?"

Nightscream realized he'd stepped just a bit over the line.

"Sliverbolt, I'm sorry. I know that wasn't you—

"But it was," Silverbolt said emphatically. "I was a creature of honor once, and having the knowledge of what I did as Jetstorm…seeing everything handed over to a child like Cheetor, and hearing one of my former victims acclaim him…Rhinox should have been the next Prime, but he died a traitor. Everything Cheetor achieves reminds me of my own failure."

"And Blackarachnia's journey doesn't?"

The question caught Silverbolt off guard.

"She was a Maximal protoform that Tarantulus reprogrammed, but you led her back to the light. Why is it okay for her to fail but not for you?"

Silverbolt waved a hand dismissively, "We're getting to far off topic."

"No," Nightscream shook his head, "An emotionally unhinged leader is very much on topic, and _you_ , Silverbolt, are our leader on this mission. I need to hear in your own words why you blame yourself for all the things you did as Jetstorm."

Silverbolt grunted and nodded.

"My wife…she was a protoform when Tarantulus got her. She had no memories before that. I had already lived as a Maximal before Megatron corrupted me. When Blackarachnia reformatted me, those memories returned, but Jetstorm's were still there too. The Knight I used to be has seen himself surpassed by those who used to look up to him. My wife had a journey from darkness into light. I had no journey, just two lives thrown together. Seeing Cheetor succeed is a reminder that Jetstorm is still a part of me. The child became an adult in spite of my interference, not because I was a role model. Seeing you succeed is even worse, because I actually hurt you as Jetstorm. I want to forget him, but I can't. What I _can_ do is separate my feelings from my command decisions."

Nightscream felt unsure of what to say. He'd never really considered the fact that Silverbolt still had all of Jetstorm's memories.

"Sir, I apologize. But you say your team moved on without you—that's just not true. Not a day went by without them talking about someone from the Beast Wars, and I was kind of a jerk wanting them to shut up about it. Silverbolt was important to them than Jetstorm ever was. I was the only exception, and I hope to get to know him better on this mission."

A rare thing happened. Silverbolt smiled.

"Good. Our quest is to rid the universe of its greatest evil. We must hunt the Chaos Bringer."


	51. 5-9 Prey

"There is a 95.8% probability of the Xenomorph bursting through its host's chest cavity in the next five standard minutes," Inquiriata said to Delibereata.

The Magistrate peered at the host with his green turbaned Face of Bitterness. The host was a human male with wavy brown hair, a beard, a red shirt, a blue jacket, and blue pants. He was unconscious from the drug the Scientist had administered and had not experienced the unpleasant ness of the Face-hugger latching on to him and seeding him with material to make a baby Xenomorph. Inquriata was weak. The restraints on the operating table should have been sufficient to hold the human in place. Yes, there would have been unpleasant screaming, but Deliberata was okay with that. The sound of an alien's agony only reminded him that the Quintessons were the pinnacle of evolution. Inquiriata's insistence that the human be comfortable was unsettling.

"Have your calculations been calibrated for the effects of the anesthetic?"

"Of course, Magistrate. I wouldn't project probabilities without all available information."

"No," Deliberata said, facing Inquirata with his Face of Wrath, "but you would risk this entire project just to keep a vertebrate comfortable!"

Inquriata quivered his tentacles nervously.

"Sir, the Xenomorph is not in danger. It merely—

"Stop! My scientific knowledge is equal to your own. I know the thing will live, but its gestation will be slowed by minutes."

Inquiriata dared to venture a comment.

"But, sir, minutes are not critical at this point, and the vertebrate is already giving its life—

This time a crunching and squelching sound interrupted Inquriata.

The two Quintessons looked to see a tiny Xenomorph covered in bodily fluids standing in a hole in the human's chest.

"The Xenomorph's in place, now for the nanites," Deliberata said as he rushed to pick up a square control from one of the panels.

With the click of a button, the creature bared its throat in a show of submission.

Deliberata switched to his face of laughter and began cackling.

"Now, thanks to the nanites, it imprints the commands of this control box as coming from its queen." Deliberata cackled some more before facing Inquiriata with his Face of Death.

Final judgment had been reached.

"Bring in the next hosts, seed them, and do it as quickly as possible. This beautiful creature will reach adulthood in approximately six hours. We can clone it directly then."

Deliberata gazed lovingly at the Xenomorph, despite looking with his Face of Death.

"We have an army to breed before the Chaos Bringer arrives." He turned to face Inquiriata, "We cannot be unprepared as we were with Unicron. This new Chaos Bringer must be _our_ servant. Surely the discomfort of a few vertebrates is a small price to pay for the survival of the Quintesson species."

When Deliberata put it in those terms, Inquriata couldn't really argue. Still he tensed. Some vertebrates, like Mirta, had proven valued assets to the Quintesson cause. He shoved his worries aside. He had to ensure his species survived when the Chaos Bringer had no further need of them, even if that meant hurting lesser life forms.

* * *

Many hours later, the Dathomiri sun had set and Lwothin said to his traveling companions, "We rest here for tonight. We are not far from where Primus is waiting for us," Lwothin said, flickering his nasal tongues to taste the night air.

Upon hearing the news, Durga the Hutt stopped pushing his tail to move himself forward and began to slow his metabolism. Cody Jones followed Lwothin's pointing over to a small tree, about equal to himself in height. Lwothin told him to break off some of the slender branches, while he himself swept a circular area clear of leaves with his tail.

"Is this going to be our fire?" Cody asked, looking at Lwothin who was beginning to place rocks in a circular pattern in the area he had just swept.

"Indeed, it is. We camp here tonight and should reach our destination tomorrow."

Lwothin scraped two rocks together and ignited the wood that Cody brought him.

"We've never been on this part of Dathomir before. How do you know where we are going?"

Lwothin was about to explain when LKD-9D9 startled them both by saying, "Primus programmed the coordinates into me the last time we spoke. In a way, it's the most important point on the planet."

"How so?" Cody asked.

"It is a Force Nexus created out of great destruction. It was where a previous Chaos Bringer created the monster we know as Unicron."

Cody was about to ask what the droid meant when he heard a hissing noise. He looked up and adrenaline did the rest.

"Lwothin, roll out of the way! Durga, wake up!"

Both his companions did so in time to see it: an adult Xenomorph. It brought its pointed tail over its shoulder, as its jet-black head gleamed in the moonlight.

Cody and Lwothin had made their way over to Durga's position; the fire acting as a barrier between them and the Xenomorph.

For a moment, none would cross that barrier. Lwothin saw a creature of pure terror illuminated by the fire. It had no eyes, yet he could feel its gaze as it evaluated its prey. The rows of sharp teeth occasionally parted to reveal a tongue that appeared to have a second mouth. Cody noticed it too.

"Don't let the second mouth touch you! It can do the same thing as a face hugger!"

When Cody said this the creature held out its hand in Cody's direction, and something invisible pushed him backward against the tree. The Force.

"This was what the Quintesson leader said to me! They have the Force now!"

Lwothin let those words sink in.

"Did anyone bring any weapons?"

Silence.

Lwothin then did something that he knew he'd regret. He stepped backward several paces, building momentum, then he slid forward, shocking the Xenomrph, and slashed with the elongated claw on his foot into its midsection. The acidic blood fell and burned him in several places, but the beast fell, unable to stop the bleeding.

"Sir," LK insisted—he had been screaming all this time, but only now did Lwothin listen—"You could have killed us."

"And had I done nothing, this Xenomorph would have. I was a fool not to insist we brought weapons."

Suddenly a familiar trilling sound caught the auditory organs of all three party members.

"No, you were wise. They are defenseless and can give no sport," a Yautja wearing a mask with a long scar on one side and carved teeth decloaked. "But you, you need no weapon, Ssi-Ruu."

Durga immediately knew who was responsible for this mess. He'd told the Kajidics about this mess, and they had told the Yautja…

"Leave him alone! You're here to hunt Xenomorphs, right? He's a P'weck! He's not the enemy!"

The Yautja shook his head, and said, "There are no allies and enemies, only Hunters, Prey, and bystanders. A fat, slow, useless slug like you does not present enough challenge to be prey, nor does an unarmed human." He then turned to Lwothin, "But you are never unarmed are you, Ssi-Ruu?"

"I was defending, not attacking," Lwothin said.

"Does it matter? You've proven yourself worthy." The Yautja removed his plasma casters and dropped all of his weapons except his wrist blades which he now extended. "Now, my blades against yours."

"This is ridiculous," Lwothin said, "We are on a mission here. A great evil is coming tothis planet."

The Yautja kicked the Xenomorph and cut off its head. He threw it to Lwothin.

"The evil is already here, but my brothers and I have experience in containing it. Now fight me!"

"No!" Durga shouted. He was not going to let anyone die because of him. He pushed the musculature in his long tail to move forward and came between Lwothin and the Yautja.

"I won't let you hurt him!"

"You have bravery, Hutt, a trait your kind was said to lack, but you are weak."

The Yautja slashed the side of Durga's with his wrist blade, and the Hutt whimpered.

"Your weight could actually be an obstacle for me, but your pain threshold makes you too easy. There is no sport in hunting you. Let me face the Ssi-Ruu."

Cody finally stepped in, walking to Durga's side.

"Listen, something worse than the Xenomorphs is coming. We should be working together,,,"

He pushed Cody as Lwothin swept his tail under the Yautja's feet.

The Predator fell, but picked himself up and removed his mask. His face also had a scar running through a glazed eye. He said something in Yautja that translated to "Your mistake."

He parried blows with Lwothin for some time, hand to tail until he finally saw an opening and jabbed his wrist-blade into Lwothin's neck.

"Master! Master…" LK said softly before the scarred Yautja picked up the tiny droid and crushed in his hand.

Scar began to cackle wildly. He had just claimed his first trophy in the new galaxy, but his laugh proved his doom.

A ball of plasma traveled from between some trees in the distant foreground, and it went through Scar's back. His corpse fell to the ground.

Cody and Durga looked forward. Light seemed to bend around a figure racing toward them, who quickly decloaked. It was another Yautja. He took off his mask when he stood over Scar's body.

"Yeyinde!" Cody shouted, relieved.

The Predator looked down at Lwothin's body. The heat was rapidly leaving it.

"I'm sorry. This is my fault. I led them."

"No, this is my fault. I reported the Xenomorphs to the Kajidics. The Kajidics told you. It's all on me," Durga said choking.

Cody noticed a key word. Yeyinde had said that he led "them."

"How many of you are there?"

"Now, only two." Yeyinde placed his mask back on. "What are the two of you doing here at all, let alone without weapons?"

Durga kept his eyes on Lwothin's body.

"He said the Chaos Bringer was coming. We were supposed to find Primus."

Yeyinde trilled.

"The creator of the Transformers? On Dathomir?" It seemed unlikely, but he went with it.

"What does Starscream want?"

"Starscream's dead," Cody said. "Shredder's the Chaos Bringer now."

Yeyinde paused and trilled. He knelt over the bodies as he thought. "Did Lwothin tell you where to find Primus?"

"No," Cody said simply.

"And you are both here without weapons or a leader." Yeyinde stood. "I'm placing the two of you under my protection." He faced the direction he had come from and called out a name in Yautja that neither Cody nor Durga could pronounce due to the pharyngeal trill.

After a few minutes of standing there, a Yautja decloaked and raced toward them.

He stopped to stare at the three bodies.

"What happened?"

"Our scarred friend killed the one being who might have known what exactly is going on here."

Yeyinde said the unpronounceable word again and pointed to the hunter next to him.

"It means 'blade.'"

As Blade starred at them, he asked, "Who was the aggressor?"

"Your friend with the scar," Cody said. "He saw Lwothin use his claw to defend us from the Xenomorph, and decided he'd make a nice trophy."

Blade looked at Yeyinde.

"You killed him?"

"He killed a friend for no reason other than his own ego and left these two stranded here without a leader."

"They have no weapons," Blade said. "The one fell could have protected them." The words were full of remorse.

"See what your hero did!" Yeyinde hissed angrily.

Blade said nothing, but he thought to himself, _There was no honor in this_.

"If I had never reported…" Durga began before Yeyinde held up an open palm.

"We all needed to know about the _kiande amedha_. It was my fault for picking him to accompany us on this mission."

 _But I provoked him_ , Durga left unsaid.

"What do we do know, Elder?" Blade asked using the deferential address for a more experienced hunter for Yeyinde for the first time.

"We find Primus. Bigger prey than the Xenomorphs is coming."


	52. 5-10 Reign of Chaos

For the intents and purposes of this story, my Primacron and the Primacron from the _Transforms G1_ episode "Call of the Primatives" are separate individuals of the same species. Unicron altered the memories of the canon Primacron and made him crazy because he hates the "original" one.

 **Dathomir, Millions of Years ago**

Unicron orbited the forest world. Whatever disturbances that gravity did to Dathomir's ecosystems were negligible. When Primacron had kept the planet eating machine that was now Unicron's prison in orbit, it had never made any any disturbances, nor did it make any upon leaving or entering.

Primacron, the Chaos Bringer, the living embodiment of evil. He had destroyed the Rakata colony on Dathomir with the very device that Unicron was now trapped in. But the saddest part was that it was not Primacron who trapped him.

Unicron fixed his gaze on one tiny location on the planet, on one specific individual.

Primus looked up from his garden and simply said, "Greetings. How are you these days, Unicron?"

"Managing," The new Chaos Bringer said in a deep resonant voice that was not his own.

"This is the first time you been back to our side of the wormhole since you became the Chaos Bringer."

"I didn't become the Chaos Bringer!" Unicron thundered, "You made me into one!"

Primus sat and folded his legs.

"I should not have done that, and I am sorry for what I did you, brother."

"Save your false sympathy, Primus. You chose your side. The blood of those men, women, and children are in in your filthy hands!"

Primus closed his eyes, feeling the justice of Unicron's rage at Primacron, but not understanding his own culpability.

"I had no part in his doings."

"Nor likely any knowledge of them!" Unicron's rage came as a blast. He wanted it to come as a hiss. Curse his new body.

"Then why do you blame me for Primacron's evil?"

Unicron roared.

"You trapped me in this machine because of what I did to him! You now try to distance yourself from father figure!"

"He raised you too, Unicron. I did not want to believe the worst about him. You had to be the one in the wrong. I see my error now, and I apologize for what I did to you, though nothing I say can make up for it."

"Nor can your words bring back the colony! Our people, Primus, Rakata! Not even tadpoles survived. All for your precious master so that you could one day inherit his power!"

Primus had refused to believe what Unicron had said, until he had visited the colony himself. There was only a gaping hole in the ground. Primacron had been thorough. That was the first time he had seen their father as a monster. He had become physically ill at the thought. What's more, he felt evil energy there.

Now Unicron was trapped in the very instrument that had destroyed his home.

That part _was_ Primus's fault.

"I do apologize for what I did to you, but what happened to the colony was the work of Primacron and Primacron alone."

"Why don't you call him 'Father' anymore?"

"Because I learned what he was!" Primus screamed before softly adding, "Only…too late."

"You chose your side. Now I will try to find some way to destroy all of Primacron's legacy."

Primus shook his head, "We can't kill each other, even if we wanted too."

"No," Unicron said. "But someone else can."

* * *

Darth Shredder's shuttle landed on Dathomir. The Chaos Bringer exited first, followed by the lesser Sith Lord, and the disillusioned Yuuzhan Vong Warrior. They were in a temperate forest, not a tropical island.

"I know this lace," Shadow said. "My grandmother's old territory is not far from-"

"Silence!" Shredder commanded. "You will get your revenge, but we are not here for the Quintessons just yet."

"We're not?" Quoreal asked. They had destroyed his last hope that peace was possible in the universe, and he wanted to end them.

Quoreal was surprised when Shredder spoke as though he was reading his mind, "Yuuzhan-Tar's great enemy was not the Quintessons, but their master, Unicron."

"The world-devourer?"

"The Quintessons had to do his bidding or perish, and surely you can't blame them for his decision to eat your homeworld."

Quoreal had hardened his face. "They have brought enough misery on the two galaxies on their own."

"This wormhole?" Shredder gestured to the moonlit sky. "Unicron and Primus used this wormhole before the Quintessons even knew of it. The Quintessons' plan to defeat heat death, that was all Unicron's plan to begin with."

Quoreal chuckled.

"There is no way I could defeat you, but if most of my anger should be directed at Uncron, shouldn't I want to kill you?"

Shredder bored into Quoreal with his eyes.

"I'm not Unicron. Starscream dealt with him. All that's left is for me to deal with Primus."

"Are you not doing Unicron's bidding then?" Darth Shadow cast a glance of warning at the Yuuzhan Vong. The former master knew better than to taunt the former apprentice.

"I'm using Unicron's plan," Shredder admitted but his eyes blazed crimson with the next statement. "However, I want the exact opposite of what Unicron wanted. He wanted to go back to what he had been. I want to be more. Now come, I can feel Primus through the Force."

Shredder had not landed far from his destination. A five-minute hike took the Sith Lords and the Warrior to a grotto with slopes on either side leading up to more forest.

"Wait outside!" Shredder snapped at Shadow, while gesturing to Quoreal to follow him.

As they entered the cavern it became increasingly brighter. They found a tall green-scaled amphibian humanoid with two stalks jutting out horizontally on either side of his head ending in eyes.

Before the creature could say anything, Shredder spoke.

"Congratulations, Primus. The Transformers did what you created them for. Starscream destroyed Unicron."

"Rodimus Prime destroyed Unicron. If Starscream had never reactivated him, you wouldn't be standing here, _Sith'ari._ "

The _Sith'ari_ was an individual in referred to in ancient Sith texts who was supposed to bring the order to the undisputed heights o power—Darth Shadow's One Sith.

"I could have never become the _Sith'ari_ without Unicron's spark, and he never would have had a spark if not for you."

"So, the mighty Darth Shredder has come for my brother's revenge?"

"No," the Triceraton shook his head. "I came because if you were a threat to him, you will _ma_ certainly be a threat to me."

Shredder fired force lightning from his fingertips before Primus could respond. His eyes grew sickly yellow as he unleashed torrent after torrent into Primus's body, while in the opposite hand he seemed to be drawing blue energy from Primus.

Eventually the amphibian collapsed. His scales were pale and he was no longer breathing.

Shredder let the collected energy circle around his hand, and he looked at Quoreal.

"Quoreal Rapuung, long ago, Yuuzhan-Tar stripped your people of a connection to the Force, and you were powerless to stop Unicron. Today I'm giving that connection back to you, if you will become my herald."

"And what does that entail?" Quoreal was beginning to grow suspicious.

"Doing as I say. You belong to me." Shredder knew that Unicron had said the same thing when he turned the original Megatron into Glavatron.

"No! I belong to nobody!" Quoreal echoed Megatron's response.

"Then perhaps I misjudged you. If you will not restore justice to the universe you will perish." A blast of Force lightening, and another and another.

"You both want ted to make the universe a better place. Shall your fates be the same?" Shredder shocked Primus's body so that Quoreal knew to whom he was referring. Quoreal could not think straight, but he was sure that he wanted to change the universe and that he did not wan to end up like Primus.

"Wait! I accept your terms!"

The lightning stopped.

"Excellent."

Shredder sent the blue energy into Quoreal's body. The warrior suddenly felt all his senses heightened. Furthermore, he could feel the dark energy on the planet. He could feel its power."

"Arise, Darth Galvan. And the one outside shall be your minion. See to him while I make holo-call."

* * *

Alðerata came flanked by his Mandalorian, his Quintesson Warriors, ten Sharkticons, and all the Xenomorphs at his disposal. As per the request, he'd brought Meewal and Deliberata with them. Shredder had promised that they would see Darth Shadow receive justice.

As they had reached the coordinates, Mirta immediately recognized Shadow and Quoreal.

"What are you two doing here?" She remembered Shadow's sexist comments to her. Time to return them.

"What's the matter, darling? Lost so much of your own power that you have to work for Unicron?"

Shadow said nothing He'd been shamed enough for one day. At least he would get revenge on Deliberata.

"I'm afraid he does not work for Unicron," Quoreal interjected. "He works for me, Darth Galvan, herald of Darth Shredder, the Chaos Bringer."

Mirta started laughing. "That looser Shredder, is your boss? This is rich?"

Meewal spoke up, "It's right that your apprentice let you live in shame rather than kill you. Now you will pay for what yo did to my husband."

Shadjuow finally realized his vindication was at hand. He smiled and chuckled.

"What is so funny?" Meewal asked.

"The being that killed your husband is the same one who killed my daughter. Do you remember what Starscream was after?"

Mirta did. "A powerful Force-sensitive individual to fulfill Unicron's plans."

"Who brought Starscream here?" He glared at Deliberata.

The Judge switched to his Face of Anger, but the Arbbiter was more concerned, switching to his face of Death and putting up a brave front.

"We knew it was a risk to bring Starsscream here, but I also deemed it worth it. Unicron's knowledge of this planet predates even our own, but your daughter was the one to ktry to kidnap the Earth boy." Everyone was silent. Everyone but Shadow, Deliberata, and Alðerata had forgotten the events leading to Rukh's murder.

"And his daughter, for whatever reason, let Rukh go, at least according to uDeliberata."

"That'a lie!" Meewal shouted .

"No one has contributed more to my work towards a united Honoghr than Judge Deliberata!"  
"Nor further solidified a Quintesson hold over the Noghri," Quoreal said.

"The Noghri have benefited immensely from our presence there. And all we have is a presence. Meewal Clan Khim'bar is the one uniting Honoghr. She is no Quintesson," Alðerata said.

"No," a drawling voice boomed and Darth Shredder emerged from the cave. He had been waitng for this moment.

"She is the leader of a unified Honoghr and will do much to bring justice to the universe..if she joins my herald."

Meewal stared at the new Dark Lord of the Sith.

"I'll never join the Sith."

Do you not want vengeance for your husband?"

"Your master's daughter killed him!"

Shredder tilted his head and Darth Shadow fell to the ground writhing in pain.

"He's not my master, and I do not serve the Sith. The Sith serve me. I'm the Chaos bringer, and I can show you things you've never imagined."

Shredder twirled his hand and Meewal found her self forced to look into the eyes of Deliberata's Face of Death. Suddenly images filled her mind: Rukh letting a Chiss girl go, her own view of Rukh coming closer. Then the words came.

"No!"

At her scream Shredder dropped his hand and broke the link.

"You!" She hissed at Deliberata. "You killed my husband!"

Alðerata wasted no time. He entered the keys for the Xenomorphs to attack, but with a sweeping wave of his hand Shredder paralyzed them and then turned them on Alðerata. The Qintesson leader gasped.

"My connection with the Force is strong enough to turn the beauties to my side."

Alðerata's contingency plan had failed. He had no moves left.

"Please, Chaos Bringer, my empire and all its resources are yours to do with as you wish. Please let my kind live."

Shredder chuckled. "Relax, Alðerata, you're not going anywhere. I wouldn't be where I am today if not for the Quintesson Empire. I need the Quintesson species, but I also made a promise to Darth Shadowto avenge his daughter and you made a promise to Meewal to avenge her husband. There is one Quintesson that has to go."

Meewal stared at Deliberata.

"Do it!" She said.

"No! No!" Deliberata screamed in terror, and with a crack of his neck Shredder cut the neural transmitter. His fit tightened as he Force-choked the Magistrate to death. No clone would be coming back from Deliberata's death.

"Now will you serve my herald and bring justice to the universe?"

Meewal still felt that her thirst for blood was unsatisfied, and that the Quintessons had failed her. _She_ wanted the power to right the galaxy as she saw fit. Shredder could get her there.

"I will."

Shredder drew pockets of blue energy from the Xenomorphs and Mirta and directed them to Meewal. She now had enough Midi-Chlorians to feel and use the Force.

Meewal emerged from the transfer in a kneeling position.

"Arise, Darth Cyclone," Shredder said, naming her after Cyclonus, Galvatron's second-in-command, further establishing himself as Unicron's successor.

"Chaos Bringer," Alðerata said, "There is a Barabel Jedi Knight running around here along with a Human Padawan from Earth. I believe you know him."

"Muni…" Shredder said.

Mirta knew the boy was in danger. She had to find him and protect him. Suddenly it hit here. The Quintessons were hoping to bring a being like Darth Shredder into being from the very beginning of association with Unicron. They part of their plan that had failed was their ability to control that being. While Shredder was ranting about his plans, she quietly slipped away.


	53. 6-1 Many Meetings

**Book Six will be the last part of this story.**

 **Dramatis Personae for Book Six**

 **On the Good Side:**

 **With Primus:**

Cody Jones—Male Human from Earth (originally from _TMNT Fast-Forward)_

Yeyinde—Male Yautja Hunter, OC, (Species is the same as _Predator_ )

Durga Besadii Tai—Male Hutt, OC, (Namesake from _Star Wars Legends_ )

Blade—Male Yautja Hunter, OC

Hekka—Male Rakata, OC, village leader (Species from _Star Wars Legends_ )

Primus—Force Ghost, male Rakata, biological brother of Unicron, adoptive son of Primacron (Character from _Transformers_ Canon, species from _Star Wars Legends)_

 **With the Grey Jedi:**

Mirta Rau—Female Human from Concord Dawn on the run from the Quintessons, OC,

Tesar Sebatyne—Male Barabel, Grey Jedi Knight (originally from _Star Wars Legends_ )

Muni Patel—Male Human from Earth, Grey Jedi Padawan, OC

 **The Cybertronians:**

Silverbolt—Male Maximal, eagle (From _Beast Wars_ and _Beast Machines_ )

Nightscream—Male Maximal, bat (From _Beast Machines_ )

Ratrap—Male Maximal, rat (From _Beast Wars_ and _Beast Machines_ )

Skybyte—Male Predicon, shark (originally from _Transformers: Robots in Disguise_ )

 **On the Evil Side:**

 **With the Foot/Sith:**

Darth Shredder/Zed Ram—Male Triceraton, Chaos Bringer, Sith'ari, and leader of the Foot clan (Based on Trishreddatron concept from unaired second season of _TMNT Fast Forward_ )

Supreme Arbiter Alðerata—Male Quintesson Magistrate, supreme leader of the Quintesson Empire, OC

Darth Galvan/Quoreal Rapuung—Male Yuuzhan Vong Warrior, herald of the Chaos Bringer, OC (Species from _Star Wars Legends_ and possibly _Star Wars_ Canon)

Darth Cyclone/Meewal—Female Noghri, minion of Darth Galvan, OC (Species from _Star Wars_ Canon)

Darth Shadow/Sizhran Savazh—Male Falleen/Zabrak Hybrid, former master to Darth Shredder, current minion to Darth Galvan (OC from my story "Shadows of the Sith"

Atrilo—Female Quintesson Warrior, OC

Inquiriata—Male Quintesson Scientist (From _Transformers G1_ episode "Forever is a Long Time Coming")

Hexato—Female Quintesson Scientist

 **Flashback Characters:**

Unicron—Male Rakata's essence inside a planet0devouring Transformer, biological brother of Primus, adoptive son of Primacron, former Chaos Bringer (Character from _Transformers G1_ 1986 movie, species from _Star Wars Legends)_

Primacron—Male dwarf primate from Milky Way, adoptive father of Primus and Unicron (Possible a separate individual of the same name and species as the character from _Transformers G1_ episode "Call of the Primatives"

Deliberata—Male Quintesson, Magistrate Caste (From _Transformers G1_ miniseries "Five Faces of Darkness")

Grey Jedi Knight Tesar Sebatyne twirled mid-run and slashed his lightsaber across the Xenomorph's chest, splitting the parasite in two. What was supposed to be a simple reconnaissance mission had gone horribly wrong. He and his Milky Way Human Padawan, Muni Patel, had come to Dathomir to investigate the rumors that the Quintessons were _breeding_ a weapon, the threat of which had cowed the mighty Hutt Kajidics into practically giving Hutt Space's sovereignty to the Quintesson Empire.

While Tesar had been distracting the Quintesson commander Atrilo, Muni had been crawling through the ventilation ducts. He'd managed to get back to Tesar outside the compound only after Atrilo had sounded an alarm. Tens of Sharkticons stood between Tesar, Muni, and their ship. Normally that would not have been a problem, but the ship had blown up almost as soon as they had regrouped. Their only option was to flee into the forest.

They had tried alerting the Council via Tesar's holoprojector, but only certain frequencies seemed to make it past the Quintessons communication's jam. A few days trying to figure out a way to flee Dathomir and alert the Council, but all space traffic was directed to and from the Quintesson compound. Sharkticons, being robots, were not susceptible to mind tricks, nor were the ancient galaxy-wise Quintessons—and the entry points to the compound were under constant surveillance.

Earlier tonight, they thought an opportunity had finally arrived. A ship entered the Dathomiri atmosphere, but then passed by the compound. They tried to follow its direction but that was when they were ambushed by five Xenomorphs. What made these parasites so deadly was that the Quintessons had used nanites to alter their genetic codes at the points at which the Midi-Chlorians bonded to their DNA. The result was that these creatures with shiny black exoskeletons could send powerful shockwaves through the air with the Force. Muni had collided with a tree when Tesar grabbed his apprentice's neck and pulled him forward. They had only separated when Tesar turned to dispatch the Xenomorph behind him. Muni now crouched with his free hand extended outward and the other tightly gripping his lightsaber.

There seemed to be a moment of calm as Muni concentrated on building a barrier with the Force around himself and his master.

His attention dropped when one of the Xenomorphs let out an ear-piercing howl and then—shot Force lightning out of its tail…!?

Both master and apprentice backflipped farther back to avoid the bolt.

"Master, this should be impossible…it takes years of practice to use Force lightning," Muni said worriedly. The only individual in recorded history to summon it with no training was Darth Shredder, and he had had to be in a heightened state of anger.

"Quintesson alchemy," Tesar hissed. It was obviously part of the genetic modifications that the Quintessons had made to the Xenomorphs, but the term "Sith alchemy" had long existed, and often it involved a scientific component, so "Quintesson alchemy" worked just as well.

Suddenly, blaster fire tore through the skulls of the two Xenomorphs farthest from them.

The Grey Jedi looked up. Tesar didn't know the olive-skinned human female who'd come to their rescue but Muni remembered Mirta clearly.

Slashing forward, Muni plunged his blue blade into a Xenomorph 's chest, while Tesar decapitated the lone remaining Xenomorph with his own green bladed saber.

"Mirta-ji?" Muuni said, surprised, as he and his master deactivated their blades.

Mirta nodded.

Tesar asked, "You know this woman, Padawan?" as he regarded her suspiciously.

"She was one of the people from your galaxy when we crashed here, Master," he explained.

Tesar inquisitively looked to Mirta.

"Why are you here now?"

"Until a few days ago, I was the Quintesson ambassador to Mandalorian Space." She looked down at the Xenomorphs. "Then I found out what the Quintessons have been up to all along. It was Deliberata who killed Rukh."

Muni took a deep breath unsure how to process this.

"The Quintessons need a powerful Force-user?" he asked.

"They found one, but they cannot control him. In fact he's giving orders to them now," Mirta paused for a minute remembering the friendship the Dark Lord had shared with the boy. "It's Darth Shredder." She said. "He has Unicron's spark and powers beyond anything I've ever seen."

Muni looked down sadly. Zed Ram had actually been his friend and protective of him—probably because both had grown up as Force-users in a galaxy where the Force was not understood...but now it seemed that Zed Ram was gone forever and only the Shredder remained.

"You mention Unicron," Tesar said. "This one has heard of him…the planet-sized Transformer that eats other planets."

Mirta nodded. "He's dead, but Shredder now has his ability to rearrange matter and energy. He wants to use the Quintesson's plan to avoid heat death to control space time…I think that's what they were after all along."

"Then the danger here is far greater thany any weaponized lifeform," Tesar said.

Muni felt even worse hearing this. Shredder would probably try to rewrite his own past and Muni's as well. Shredder would probably see it as helping them, but it would be erasing who they were, and if he needed the Quintesson's help he would probably alter history in some way to advance the interests of their twisted empire.

"And Shredder can rearrange matter inside individuals and make them Force sensitive. He's already turned two of the members of our old group into Sith Lords. He called them his 'heralds.'"

Muni grew worried at the idea of losing more friends.

"Meewal is now Darth Cyclone, and Quoreal is now Darth Galvan, Shredder's second-in-command."

Galvatron and Cyclonus—two of Unicron's Decepticon servants, Muni realized.

"Is there a third?"

"Shreddr's old Sith master, Darth Shadow, reduced now to a minion."

Other than Darth Shadow who was now widely known for reviving the Sith, Tesar did not recognize any of these names, but grasped the threat.

"He can make people Force sensitive?"

"Even Quoreal," Mirta said, "A Force-blind Yuuzhan Vong."

"So Uinicron is here," Yeyinde summed up what Cody was saying.

"Well not Unicron, exactly, but Shredder has Unicron's spark."

* * *

Yeyinde clasped the section of flesh between his lower mandibles. "The Quintessons wanted a powerful Force-user here as part of their plan to defeat heat death."

"There is supposedly a Force nexus on Dathomir from where Unicron was created," Cody said. "Whatever Shredder is planning, he's a threat to the stability of space time throughout the universe."

Yeyinde stepped back for a moment and placed his mask back over his face. He half turned to face the younger hunter. "Blade!"

The other Yautja raised from his knees looking at the bodies of Scar and the Ssi-Ruu. The Ssi-Ruu had fought with honor to protect his friends—he was certainly worthy prey—but know shouldn't he have been regarded as an ally? Scar's threatening the _ooman_ and the Hutt was not honorable hunting.

" _Sei,_ Yeyinde?"

"The _Kiande amedha_ are no longer our priority. The Chaos Bringer himself is here."

Blade twitched his mandibles behind his mask.

"But Unicron is dead."

"Well, he isn't exactly Unicron."

"Wait!" Durga said. The three Milky way vertebrates fixed there gaze on the Hutt.

"Lwothin said, that we needed Primus' help to defeat Shredder."

"The Transformer's creator?" Yeyinde said with a snarl. He was at first ready to dismiss the suggestion as mere myth-chasing, but then in light of the discovery of a new galaxy in the past few years, anything seemed possible. "Where?"

"Your friend killed the only one who knew where to find him," Cody pointed to Scar's body.

Blade looked at his fallen comrade with a new disgust. He had sacrificed the safety of the universe in a quest for personal glory. The more he thought of it, Scar only talked about the prey he wanted to kill. The bloodthirst in him seemed greater than the quest to prove himself, which to Blade, was what the Hunt was all about.

"Did your companion say anything about how to find Primus before my misguided brother slew him?"

"Only that we were close," Durga said.

Cody suddenly felt re-energized.

"We re close to where we need to be! All we have to do is search!"

Yeyinde trilled.

"Did Lwothin say anything about Primus that could help us know where to look?"

"Only that he was likely in a cave and that his species was—

"Rakata," Durga interrupted. "They were from this galaxy. They had an empire about 25,000 years ago."

That didn't make sense to anyone listening.

"Trnsformers have legends of Primus dating back twelve million years!" Yeyinde emphasized the number. "The period you mentioned is well after the Quintessons brought Humans and Yautja to this galaxy!"

"The species could have been around for a long time before that," Durga said.

Yeyinde heaved out an exasperated breath.

"Fine, what do you know of their biology?" He prepared to ggle his mask's visual controls.

"They were vertebrates, amphibians, ectotherms, very tall."

"Like them?" Cody pointed to individuals approaching from the depths of the forest.

They were tall, with eyes on ends of horizontal stalks, clad only in loincloths.

"We were expecting you," one of them who held an elaborately designed spear that that that had what looked like a palm grip.

"When Primus died, it sent shockwaves among us through the Force..."

"Primus is dead?" Cody asked.

"Slain by the Chaos Bringer. My name Hekka. I lead the descendants of the Rakata Infinite Empire here on Dathomir."

Everyone stared at him, confused.

Durga exploded with questions.

"How did you survive all these years without the Old Republic, the Republic, the Nightsisters, the Sith, or the Quintessons finding you?"

"Your question has a long answer, which I will tell as you follow us." Hekka gestured to those following him. The four arrivals followed the Rakata deep into the forest. Eventually, they came upon a river, which they followed for nearly an hour until they came to a large lake.

"Camp by the lake shore. My people live in the lake." He looked to Durga. "As to your question, twelve million years ago, the Quintessons ravaged our howeworld of Lehon. Everything about our past was destroyed. We were reduced to a stone age. We were content without our place as fishers and seaweed gatherers. It was when the Mando'a, Yautja brought to our galaxy began hunting us that we re-emerged. All of my people are Force-sensitive, and we fed on our anger and hate to gain knowledge of the galaxy and how to subdue it. We formed a galaxy-spaning empire powered by the Dark side of the Force."

"Why did the Mando'a hunt you?" Blade asked.

Hekka laughed. "The same reason they always hunt. To best the ultimate prey. We became that when they discovered us and our Force connection not long after."

Blade had just seen was the quest for glory could do with the loss of someone they had needed, and now saw how it had unleashed a dark force in this galaxy's past. He had to wonder if there was any value at all in the quest to prove oneself.

"Our ancestors were meant to colonize Dathomir and bring it into the Infinite Empire. There was after all, a massive Dark Side nexus here. But here we met Primus, a Rakata descended from the First Empire we had long forgotten. He knew what it was to be consumed by rage and over time persuaded us to abandon our warlike ways."

"How did he live such a long time?" Cody asked.

"His lifeforce was linked to a specific task. He could not die until it was time for someone to take his place."

Suddenly a sense of dread fell on all of the off-worlders.

"How are we supposed to take the place of someone who created a species?" Cody demanded angrily.

Hekka did not seem to notice Cody's anger. He merely said, "The Cybertronians…Primus always regretted what he did with that world."

That was all he said, but it made the three beings from the Milky Way question everything they thought they knew about Cybertron.


	54. 6-2 Hidden Power

Shredder waved a hand and the nameplate that read "Al-ðe-ra-ta" in Quintesson syllabic characters into "Darth Shredder" in Latin letters. He also rearranged the spacing of matter between the chair and the desk to accommodate his different body shape.

Looking to the Quintesson Arbiter who wore a neutral Face of Doubt, he said, "Ther's a new man in charge."

"In its not my wish to contradict you, august one, but the position of Chaos Bringer has always necessitated that the one in that role be in charge. It was only Your predecessor's demise that enabled me to believe I could actually orchestrate the final plan on my own."

Shredder took that Alðerata was referring to Unicron, as Starscream had always been someone's pawn, no matter his delusions of grandeur.

Shredder smirked behind his mask and chuckled as he took a seat across from the Arbiter.

"Continue, my dear sycophantic cyborg cephalopod. I know you don't truly regard me as your superior in your heart of hearts, but you certainly cannot say otherwise," he drawled.

"You are most correct, dread one."

Shredder was loving this! After all of his obeisance, first to Krang, then to Shadow, it was fulfilling to know that now the undisputed political master of the Universe had to bow before him. It was an added bonus that his fomer master was now subordinate to his herald. He wished Krang were still around so that he could gloat to him as well, but until he controlled space-time that wouldn't happen. Now he truly had no threats—wait!

His mind scanned the surrounding area. He felt Muni's presence, Mirta's, an unknown one he supposed belonged to the Barabel, Cody, Durga, Samedi, another Yautja, and…a community of Rakata!

"That fool Primus! I will wipe out the last remnant of his species!"

Alðerata was surprised.

"Dread one, Unicron had us destroy the first Rakata Empire millions of years, precisely so he would never have to engage them in combat that could lead to their destruction…"

"Of course, he did!" Shredder shouted. "Unicron _was_ a Rakata once!"

Deliberata closed his optic sensors. He was used to giving the yelling, not being yelled at. Still, he would not display his Face of Anger.

"I will wipe out Unicron and Primus's legacies so that the Universe cowers before the name Darth Shredder!" Shredder stood and made a fist. Then a thought occurred to him. Why had none of the groups on Dathomir detected this Rakata population before? He scanned again but something diverted him from the Rakata. Someone in the group close to them had an odd Force signature. He remembered what Shadow had taught him about latent Force abilities. He could not tell who in the group had this power, but he didn't need to scan to know.

"Jones, my old nemesis, so you have Force abilities of your own."

Alðerata knew Shredder was speaking to someone who wasn't really there, but the look in his eyes spoke of a madness all its own.

* * *

Quoreal had never felt so alive before. He could reach out with his feelings and touch other livings things. He could sense their emotions, their biological process such as breathing and heartbeat. This connection to others had been denied to him when he was a Yuuuzhan Vong… _was_ a Yuuzhan Vong…he was something different now for all Yuuzhan Vong were Force blind—a consequence forced upon them by their sentient homeworld Yuuzhan'tar, which had subsequently eaten by Unicron. No, he was something different now. He was no longer Quoreal Rapuung, but Darth Galvan, herald of the Chaos bringer, and Darth Cyclone and Darth Shadow were his minions.

He looked at his minions. He understood Darth Cyclone, the Noghri he had known as Meewal, since they had been stranded on Dathomir. He understood and supported her goals—bringing justice to the universe—they had both experienced innocents killed on Dathomir at the hands of Darth Shadow and the Quintesson—theirr reluctant partners in their master's endeavor. Glvan looked at his lesser vassal with contempt. He hated Shadow and only allied with because he seemed to be a lesser threat than the Quintessons. Still he needed a teacher who was familiar with the Dark Side of the Force. He could tell from experience that fear, anger, and aggression, were the most powerful emotions. What he needed was the experience of someone who had used those feelings to harness the energy that bound life down on her hands and knee

"Shdow, teach us how to harness the Dark Side," The Yuuzhan Vong commanded.

Shadow sat, starring at the wall his mind seemingly elsewhere.

"It's about feeling, not intellect," the Sith Lord said absently. "Think of something you truly despise and imagine that you have the power to act upon your anger. However, you must keep it in check, leest you destroy yourself in the process, and you need to be able to transfer your hate or fear on to whatever you are facing. If it is capable of emotion use its own fear or anger against it."

"You mean…like this?" Darth Cyclone stretched her hand forward and brought her fingers together. Shadow felt a slight contraction on his throat. It was pathetically weak. He thought about laughing but then, paused. Shredder had given his underlings the title "Darth" and Shredder openly called himself the "Sith'ari." He clearly saw his new order as a continuation of the Sith. It was what Shadow had wanted after all. He decided to laugh after all, not because he he thought Cyclone's ability was pathetic, which it was, but because she needed to be provoked for it to grow stronger.

"Oh, yes, that is good," he said sarcastically, his voice only slightly strained. "Now let me try!"

Cyclone felt her grip break and Shadow's own tighten around her throat. The Dark Lord laughed as she began gasping.

"You…sadist…"

"Come on, fight back! You need training, don't you?" Sahdow said.

She focused her anger and narrowly pushed back Shadow's assault.

"A good first step," Shadow acknowledged.

"Now me," Galvan said eagerly.

* * *

The two Grey Jedi and the disgraced Mandalorian sat around the remnants of a fire.

 _It was necessary for these two,_ Tesar thought. It would have been much simpler and safer to hunt down a meal and eat it raw, but human bodies were more likely to pick up disease from raw meat, unlike a Barabel.

As Tesar chewed on meat from from a scaled beast he'd killed with is lightsaber and roasted over the fire, he turned his mind to the most important topic on everyone's mind.

"Darth Shredder," he hissed. "What do we know of him?"

"He probably wants me to join him," Muni said. It made sense. Muni and Zed had both grown up as Force-sensitives on Earth, and suffered because of it—publicity in Muni's case, and ostracism in Zed's. The human boy reminded the adult Triceraton of a younger version of himself, so he had naturally felt protective of him around both Krang and Darth Shadow. However, that probably meant all the more that Darth Shredder now wanted Muni as his apprentice.

Muni explained his friend's past to his master.

"Are you suggesting that these ones use you as bait, Padawan?" Tesar asked.

Mirta did not give Muni a chance to respond before Muni could respond.

"This isn't the Zed Ram you remember, Muni. He probably does still want you as an apprentice, but his Force abilities have grown a thousand-fold. He will know you are lying instantly, and if he can't mind control you, he will kill you. I only got away because he was too busy killing Deliberata to pay attention—"Mirta stopped herself. She had it!

"What is it, Mirta-ji?" Muni asked.

"For all his new power and awareness, Shredder is not yet omniscient or omnipotent. If we divide his attention, we can defeat him!"

"And we already know what he wants!" Muni said with enthusiasm.

Tesar smiled, but froze just as suddenly. Shredder would already know where the Force-nexus was. He would be after it now unless….

"What is it, master?" Muni asked.

Tesar held up a clawed finger. "There is something else here…something shredder wants to handle before taking on the nexus." Tesar closed eye and held up a finger. "This one must meditate."

Muni and Mirta waited patiently as Tesar reached out in the Force looking or something that Darth Shredder would latch on to. He noticed something: just as there, had to be a Dark Side Nexus, there was a Light Side nexus even closer to them…in a lake. A lake teeming with lifeforms…sentient lifeforms!

Tesar suddenly laughed a deep laugh common to his saurian species.

"What is it?" Mirta dared to let herself hope.

"We thought the war was nearly over...in fact it is yet to begin."

The two humans looked confused as to what Tesar had meant.

"There is another nexus, a light one generated by living sentients. How it survived all these years without being detected is not known, but it is there."

* * *

Hekka emerged from the waters, holding a sack of freshly skewered fish.

"A fellow hunter, I see," Yeyinde said.

"Among other things." Hekka looked to the other three under his charge. Since Cody and Durga did not wear Masks they were the easiest to read, and their nervous state of mind was clear. It was probably true for the two Yautja as well.

Hekka stepped onto dry ground and laid the sack down.

"You will have to cook them yourself—we can't do that under water—but I imagine that you have far more important concerns on your minds."

"That's right," Cody said, "Darth Shredder."

Hekka stroked his chin, not recognizing the name at first, before finally saying, "Ah yes, the Triceraton Sith Lord who now has the function once held by Unicron. Primus told us of him, though he hoped to meet you before Shredder got to him."

Cody grew frustrated, "Enough of Primus and what he could have done! What do we do now?"

"We have already lifted the Force-cloak over our village. The presence of a Lightside nexus should throw Shredder off balance while determine which one of you is Force-sensitive…"

This news elicited a simultaneous "What?!" out of the four off-worlders' mouths.

"One of you has latent Force-abilities," Hekka said calmly.

Durga and the Yautja looked at each other before turning their eyes to Cody the only one who hadn't looked at the others.

Unlike them, Cody was sure he was the one the Rakata meant. Uxils had said he might have to become a counter to Shredder, and Lwothin had sent him the message to meet on Cybertron.

"It's me," Cody said.

Hekka twitched the muscles around his eye.

"Are you sure?"

"Uxils said I was a counterweight to Shredder. He was right about everything else."

"And he was probably right about that too," Hekka conceded, "But you don't need to be Force-sensitive to resist a Sith. Emperor Palpatine murdered his Sith master while he was drunk, an act that need not have required any Force ability, only the ability to seize upon an opening." Hekka paused, as if he had just said something important.

"Palpatine…Darth Sidious…was a master of Force Cloak. He spent decades at the height of galactic power before the Jedi learned he was a Sith Lord, and even then, it was only at a moment of his own choosing. What he could do as an individual, we could do as a community. One of you did that at some point in your life after an intense emotional ordeal, and blocked it from your own memory."

Suddenly Cody felt less sure about himself. Durga and Yeyinde had been through more emotional ordeals than he had.

"Would the person remember the ordeal?" Blade asked.

"No!" Yeyinde and Hekka said simultaneously.

 _So, it could still be any of us_ , Cody thought. Whoever it was had to be found quickly. Darth Shredder and Alðerata may not truly be able to control space-time as they hoped, but they could damage it.


	55. 6-3 The Last Peaceful Night

"How do you know where we are ging?" Mirta asked the Barabel Grey Jedi who led their way through the twisting paths of the forrest.

"This one is following the Force," Tesar explained. "All life generates the Force, so it can be used to track living things Beings who are sensitive to the Force themselves give off powerful signals."

He sounded less like a Jedi now and more like a hunter. The thought of a Force sesitive Yautja terrified Mirta, as such beings were already the ultimate Predators even without the Force—no, Unicron ate planets. He would be the ultimate predator were he still alie.

"Can the Force tell you anything about this community you're sensing?"

"So far, all this one can make out is that it is underwater."

"There must be a lake nearby," Muni said. "We're pretty far from the coast."

The teenager stopped walking and stretched out with the Force.

"I can feel that they are amphibious."

"Good work, this one's Padawan. Now keep up!" Tesar said. Time was important and he did not want to leave anyone behind.

What Muni had said was infact good news. None of them could breathe water, though the fForce could aid one in holding one's breath for a long time. Mirta however did not have even that luxury. At least they would be able to meet these beings on land.

"So how do you think our mystery friends could have such a strong presence and go undetected for such a long time?"

Tesar thoughtfully hissed as he answered.

"This one has been thinking about that since this morning. The Dark Emperor, Palpatine, masked his presence in the Force for years using ancient Sith techniques—presumably others found the skill independently. Strange though that they should about Darth Shredder's plans."

"Maybe Primus told them," Muni said. Then another thought hit him. "What if Primus was one of them?"

Mirta shook her head and laughed.

"Muni, I just don't see how. Primus lived for millions of years and is supposed to be the brother of Unicron. Seeing how Unicron was a robot, I don't think his brother couldn't be an organic." She turned her gaze to Tesar," And you can't sense droids through the Force, right?"

"You are correct," Tesar said. "Only organic cells have can't feel a droid in the Force, as they have no cells."

"But you can feel sparks in the Force," Muni said.

They stopped and looked at him.

"What are sparks?" His master asked.

"A source of energy containing the essence of who a Transformer is. I felt Unicron's when Starscream came here. I can feel it now inside Darth Shredder."

Tessar tried to wrap his mind around the concept while Mirta said, "I remember that. It's how the Quintessons got us to trust them."

Tesar nodded.

"The early history of our two galaxies is strange and interlocked. Prehaps our mission here will shed some light when it's over."

As they passed the next cluster of trees the lake came into view, as did the small camp on its shores.

Yeyinde looked up and noticed three heat signatures. Two were true endotherms, one was a large ectotherm like himself who maintained a somewhat consistent body temperature through sheer size.

"Cody," Yeyinde said from his position leaning against the hill's rocky outcrops,

Cody from sitting in front of the fire and turned backward for his gaze to meet Mirta's. She was here, but whose side was she—Cody knew the answer when he saw money with herin the grey robes of his order. A third figure was with them, a Barabel, whom Cody assumed was Muni's Grey Jedi Master.

"Durga!" Cody poked the Hutt who slowly turned around.

The party of survivors that had so lung been torn asunder was finally reunited.

Mirta raced down the hill and threw her arms around Cody. They shared what seemed like hours of smiling and looking into each other's eyes—her green meeting his blue. In reality it was only a matter of seconds. He looked up at Muni and the Jedi Master.

"Muni, it's been a long time," he saind in Hindi.

"It is good to see you, Cody-ji," The teenager replied. "Can I introduce my master?"

Tesar stepped forward.

"Meet Tesar Sebatyne, Grey Jedi Knight."

Blade looked at their new ally. He had the muscle-strength to rival a Yautja, the ability to use and very sharp fangs. He would make a worthy trophy, but—that was how Scar had seen the Ssi-Ruu, and nearly doomed the universe. If this being was a Jedi, then he was supposed to be a warrior for good, definitely worthy of being prey—but if his trophy were collected it would deprive the universe of a lifetime of someone doing good. Was there, Blade wondered, any honorable way of being a Hunter?

"Why did you leave the Quintessons?" Cody asked Mirta.

She swallowed and steely determination seized her face.

"Darth Shredder…thanks to him we know the truth. Deliberata lkilled Rukh and Shadow's daughter. Shredder killed him and now the Quintessons are working for him."

Cody stepped back and asked, "Who's we?"

"Meewal, Quoreal, and I were all there. They're with Shredder now. He gave them Force abilities and named them Darth Galvan and Darth Cyclone."

"Galvatron, herald of Unicron, and his general Cyclonus. Is there a Darth Scourge?"

"Me…" Muni realized. "He wants me?"

"Who are Galvatron and Cyclonus and how can he grant someone Force abilities if they were not bor with them?" Tesar demanded.

"Unicron can convert any kind of matter or energy." Cody said.

"The Midi-Chlorians in the Xeneomorphs," Mirta said.

"If the Quintessons are working for Shredder now, then he has the Xenomorphs and his heralds!" Cody gasped, and immediately put his hand to his chin. "We need to talk to Hekka."

"Who's Hekka?" Mirta asked.

"The leader of the Dathomiri Rakata community."

"Rakata are still alive?" Tersar said more out of shock than disbelief. At this rate, nothing could surprise him anymore.

* * *

Shredder watched as his herald trained against his former master. Shredder had taken and divided the Kyber crystals from his own and Shadow's lightsabers. He had given the half of Shadow's crystal to Darth Cyclone, and the half of his own to Darth Galvan. The two had been given conflicting instructions, both meant to grow each's power in the Dark Side. Galvan was to use his powers to drain the poison out of his crysal, restoring it to the crimson Sith color, while Cyclone was to use the powers Shredder had given her to poison the half of Shadow's crystal, turning into the dark blue Unicronian color.

As of the moment, Glavan was clashing blades with Shadow. His technique was obviously inexperienced, but the angry jabs and slashes could easily be harnessed into Form VII Juyo.

Cyclone crouched as she watched her leader and former enemy spar. Her turn would come next.

After an impressive array of twirls in which Galvan seemed to have the upper hand, Shadow brought his blade to just barely touch Galvan's wrist.

Knowing that any movement would result in the loss of his hand, Galvan froze.

"What did you do wrong?" Shadow asked.

Galvan was silent for a moment as he searched for an answer. He thought he had one and said, "I became over-focused own my victory and-"

Shadow cut him off, "No, the problem lay in what you were not focusing on—your enemy. You must keep your opponent's moves at the forefront of your mind, anticipate them through the Force, and adjust your own skill set in accordance."

"His skill set is woefully inadequate to take you on Shadow," Shredder said. "It will grow in time, but right now time is the one thing we do not have."

The three Sith Lords all stood in attention for the Chaos Bringer's instructions.

"There is a community of Rakata on this planet, about a day's walk from here. Together they could be a threat to my plans, and they are Unicron and Primus's species. I would want them eliminated but a new wrinkle has found its way into my plan. Cody Jones is with them and has latent Force powers of his own. The Utrom said he would be my greatest threat." Shredder paused while he let his words sink in. "I want to hold this Rakata community hostage—their lives for Jones. Once I have him, I can tap into the nexus without interference."

"Master," Galvan began, "We have only just received our powers. Surely you don't expect us to handle an entire community of Force-sensitive Rakata."

Shadow nodded his head in agreement.

Shredder laughed, walked over to Galvan, grabbed his jaw and shook his head from side to side.

"Not by yourselves, no. But you forget, the Sith are not my only minions, let alone my most useful ones. You shall take Quintesson designed personal shields, breathing equipment, Sharkticons, and Xenomorphs with you. What the Cephalopods lack in the Force, they make up for with their ingenuity."

* * *

For all that he was reduced to a vassal in the grand scheme of things, Supreme Arbiter Alðerata still felt pretty good about the status of the Quintesson Empire. Shredder still needed the Quintessons for the same reasons Unicron did, and technically he still outranked Shredder's Yuuzhan Vong herald, Darth Galvan, making hi8m the second most powerful individual in the endeavor as he had held under the original Unicron. It also gave him a good feeling that the Rakata might not survive the upcoming battle. Unicron had so wanted them to survive…now Shredder wanted them dead. The Quintessons had outlasted Unicron's designs. And Shredder? He was pow3erful and mentally unhinged, much like Galvatron had been when the Quintessons had first encountered him. They had successfully manipulated the Decepticon, so they would the Triceraton. For now, that meant obeying his dictates, and proving their own worth.

These days Alðerata perpetually wore his Face of Death.

He hovered near Hexato who was monitoring the cloning of Xenomorphs.

"We need scores of Xenomorphs for the upcoming assault on the Rakata's underwater village. Have you made the necessary adjustments?"

"Yes, Arbiter." She entered a command on her keypad that allowed her to project the hologram of a Xenomorph egg cell. Another command showed the cells Shredder had brought them from Primus's body. The nuclear DNA entered the egg cell, and it developed into A Rakata-Xenomorph—taller and lankier than the human derived ones, capable of breathing water, and inherently Force sensitive.

"Of course, we still need to implant the nanites."

"How many do you have?"

"I began cloning the minute Shredder gave us the sample. We have 105 specimens."

Alðerata chuckled, maintaining his Face of Death, "I am pleased." He glided out of the room.

Once he was gone, Inquiriata found the courage to speak up.

"I'm nervous."

Hexato looked to her lover.

"Why?"

He made a sweeping gesture with his organic green tentacles. "I've been part of many assignments to subjugate lesser species, and to experiment on their individuals. All this was for the greater cause of our hegemony. As the oldest species, all are better off under our aegis…but this time…there could be no survivors of the lesser species left."

Hexato determined the cause of his worry.

"I have never been part of the wholesale destruction of a species either…but surely these can't be the only Rakata in the galaxy…so much of the unknown regions are still unexplored to this day."

"I know…but these _could_ be the last Rakata, and the possibility that we are wiping the species out…" his tentacles were twitching beyond his ability to control them.

Hexato paused. The Quintesson Empire had wiped out entire species in the past before, but Hexato had never been on one those assignments.

"The universe is always a less rich place when that happens, isn't it?" She asked.

They were supposed to be the most enlightened still species existing—but what if the scientific accomplishments they had acquired over millions of years had produced arrogance rather than enlightenment?

"In any event, this their last peaceful night. Theirs and ours."


	56. 6-4 Power Revealed

Okay, it's getting that time in the semester where I have to put my fics on the back burner. I should be back after November.

"This one has never seen a Force-Technique like this," Tesar said.

Two Rakata attendants knelt beside the sitting Mirta. If anyone was likely to have blocked memories it was he: after all she had killed a former subordinate officer when she discovered he was abusing his wife, made numerous bad judgement calls when they were stranded on Dathomir the first time that resulted in the Quintesson Empire's domination at the planet, yet until recently had always seen herself in the right. There was must have been some kind of personality flaw…

After two hours of the Rakata gentnly holding her and breathing in sync with her, the female holding her head said, "It isn't her."

They removed their hands and let Mirta up to drink some purified water they had brought. She was disappointed—not that she wasn't Force-sensitive, but that there was now only one explanation for her flawed behavior—like everyone else she made mistakes—but unlike most people she would stubbornly reconstruct her entire view of reality to avoid being caught in one—a fact which had prevented her from growing from those mistakes. She was a self-internalized perfectionist. She was disappointed with herself for being that way.

The Female Rakata had felt Mirta's angst and now said to her, "Being angry with yourself will solve nothing. Accept that you have made mistakes and then learn from them."

Mirta let those words sink in.

"Thank you," She said.

The male Rakata glanced at Yeyinde. "The Hunter with two names."

Yeyinde came forward and assumed the same cross-legged position that Mirta had. The female gently held his temples while the male gently held hiswrist and shoulder.

Yeyinde…or, rather, Baron Samedi was a more promising candidate than Mirta. He had experienced great personal loss at Krang's tentacles and then inflicted the same upon an innocent human family. Added to that was the fact that sorcerers—a term Yautja used for anyone with abilities that might be Force-derived were shunned. It gave them unfair advantages on the hunt.

The process again took two hours.

Blade watched with intense interest. It was his hope that Yeyinde's experiences held the key to a purer, more honorable way to hunt.

Yenyide breathed out slowly. He could see every painful event from his past in order in what felt like real time. He could remember his intense anger with Krang, his joy at his first _kiande amedha_ kill, and his self-loathing when the _ooman_ child cried after he killed his first truly sentient prey…there was plenty he wanted to block out, but everywhere he searched for a block he could find none. He hueard the disembodied voice of the Rakata female: "Don't force your way through any of this." His breathing had grown ragged but then it slowed. He and the Rakata could see clearly. There was no block. Yeyinde softly sighed as the Rakata lifted their hands.

"It is not him either."

That only left Cody, Durga, and Blade. Cody, had been sure it was himself before. Now, with both Mirta and Yeyinde eliminated, he was positive.

Before anyone could say anything else, a gigantic splash seized everyone's attention.

The two Rakata stumbled and put their hands on their heads as though in pain.

"The Dark Side," the female gasped between painful exhalations. "Our village is in danger."

Tesar quickly leaped into action, reaching into his robes for a breathing apparatus, prompting Muni to do the same.

"These ones must go into battle," he as he removed his outer robe and jumped into the lake, Muni following him.

Yeyinde stood and toggled the control on his mask to convert water into breathable air for a Yautja. While they breathed oxygen like humans the exact combination of gasses on their homeworld was different, and though Dathomir seemed equally comfortable for Humans and Yautja, Yautja could only go so long in a nitrogen dominated atmosphere like Earth's without masks.

"Blade, set your mask for water filtration and follow me. The Jedi will need our aid."

The two Hunters raced for the shore and dove in.

Mirta no longer had a suit of Mandalorian armor, and even if she did, it could not convert the oxygen in water to a gaseous form. She knew she would be useless in the water battle. Durga knew he was always useless in any battle—ever since he failed to stop Tala Doneeta from killing his father. There was so much about that day the young Hutt wanted to forget.

Cody, however knew that this battle was for him, about him, over him.

He walked to the water's edge.

"I'm the one you want!" He screamed. "Leave them in peace!"

Everyone heard a twig snap, or more accurately be crushed. They turned around to see Quoreal Rapuung emerge from the woods behind them.

"Such heroism is noble, Cody, but you do realize you'll be giving my master exactly what he wants?"

"Quoreal," Cody said.

"I'm Darth Galvan now."

"The herald of the Chaos Bringer? You know what happened to the last one, right?"

Quoreal had spent enough time in the Milky Way to get the reference.

"I'm not the one going crazy, Cody. Your own sanity, though," he stroked his chin, "You would really put your life on the line for all of them?"

"The Quoreal I knew was interested justice!" Cody said through gritted teeth.

"So am I," Galvan claimed, "but justice can only be achieved through power." Galvan narrowed his eyes, "And we almost have the power to right every wrong in this universe's sad history. The indviduals who die down there don't matter because soon history will change and they will be in a far better position in the new timeline. The only one who can stop this new time line is you. You matter."

"That's why I'm coming with you." Steely determination was etched into Cody's face.

"Cody, no!" Mirta screamed before Galvan Force-pushed her into the water.

Durga winced.

"If I go, you'll stop attacking the village?"

"I give you my word as commander, no harm will befall the village by my hand."

* * *

Darth Cyclone received the mental notification from Darth Galvan. Phase one of Darth Shredder's plan had worked. Jones was captured. Now for phase two: destroy the village anyway. It caused Meewal some pain in her heart. These Rakata lived fairly simple lives, much like the Noghri. Still, Shredder was clear—these were the people who had created Unicron. They were a threat to the universe until he could control spacetime. Then he could change the timeline, give them a different, more peaceful history. These Rakata had to go for Shredder's victory over Unicron to be complete, and for a new Rakata species with no connection to Unicron to be born.

The fighting so far had been one sided as far as she was involved, her blackish-blue blade hewing a half dozen amphibian bodies in two. Shadow stood on the lakebed giving mental suggestions to her. So far, few Rakata dared approach a Sith Lord such as herself, preferring the obviously less dangerous Sharkticons, and the not-so-obviously more dangerous Xenomorphs. Several Rakata had fallen to them. The majority of the population were staying within the safety of their underwater dwellings and erecting a Force barrier around their community as about twenty select warriors did battle. The Rakata were aided by two Jedi and two Yautja. She supposed that one of the Yautja was Yeyinde—not that it mattered. The human Jedi was much more important. He looked like…Could he be?

 _Muni?_ She asked through the Force.

The teenager stared at her.

 _Meewal-ji?_

 _Darth Shredder would be pleased that you are here_ , she messaged as she sliced through a warrior.

 _What happened to you? You were good once._

He stabbed a Xenomorph through its jaw.

 _I'm still working for the good of the universe. These beings created Unicron._ She hacked through another warrior, Shadow's suggestions becoming harder to hear as she focused more of her energy into communicating with Muni.

 _Is this what Rukh would want?_ He asked her.

 _Darth Shredder avenged Rukh, he killed Deliberata!_

 _And what do the Rakata have to do with it?_

 _They created Unicron. He gave the Quintessons their longevity. They are the authors of all this!_

Muni had heard enough. All that Meewal was interested in was revenge, a revenge that hadn't been satisfied with Deliberata. It had only grown.

 _Darth Shredder can give them a new history when he controls time. He can give all of us a new history. Join us Muni! Become a herald!_

For a moment, he thought he heard the old Meewal, trying to show that she still had compassion, and perhaps even she really thought it was still true about herself, but her purposed course of action only proved that she was following a

 _I will never join Shredder!_

Meewal floated in place watching Muni, also in place.

"Then I have no choice," she said aloud, sadly, "You must die!"

* * *

It was too much for Durga. Galvan and Cody were a long way away but the water still had the green tint of what Durga guessed was either Rakata or Yautja blood—more likely the former.

He moved over to the female Rakata who knelt on the shore and let her tears mingle with the lake. He put a stubby hand on her shoulder and suddenly—he felt it. The entire lake community not engaged in fighting was putting up a Force barrier around their village, but they still felt the pain every time one of their warriors fell.

Durga felt that pain, and felt his own worry for Cody and the two Jedi and Hunters. The feelings of dread weren't separate from the Rakata's. He felt specific dread for individuals in the community he did not know: fathers, sons, daughters, brothers.

"How am I feeling this?" Durga asked.

The Rakata female lost focus and looked at Durga.

"It's you!" She exclaimed.

Durga was stunned into silence…Force-sensitivity was extremely rare among Hutts. He thought back to the events between Tala Doneeta and his father—something had deflected her first blaster shot—he had. The event was so painful though…

"Focus on creating a wave to push the invaders out," the Rakata said. At the same time sent a telepathic message to Hekka, who was coordinating the Force wall at the village center. He relayed it to all working on the same job.

Durga felt incredible strain as he was trying to form a wave. It made his head hurt. He had only just that he was Force sensitive. How could the Rakata expect him to…wait…did he hear cheering?

Durga opened his eyes to see Mirta and the Rakata near him crying in triumph. He could a mass of Sharkticon and Xenomorph bodies in the distance, along with what looked like two shadowy figures disappearing from view.

The two Jedi and the two Hunters broke the lake's surface. Smiles were apparent when the Jedi removed their breathing gear.

"How did I…?" Durga began only for the female Rakata to interrupt him.

"All you did was give us an idea from your memory, when you tried to use the Force to send the blaster bolt away from your father. We then thought of a way to send our enemies away from us. We are new to using the Force in combat as well, but creative thinking and enough people can accomplish many things."

The thing that stood out to Durga was the she said he _did_ have Force abilities.

The Yautja were the first out of the water.

"So Durga is the individual who can stop Shredder?" Yeyinde asked.

"It looks that way," Mirta said with a reawakened optimism.

The Rakata merely said, "Durga is the latent Force-user we sensed, but I also don't think you should discount what your Utrom friend heard. Cody is most likely meant to be Shredder's opponent."

That sent shudders through all of them—even the ectotherms. Once again Cody Jones was a captive of the Sith, and once again a descendant of April O'Neil and Casey Jones was a captive of the Shredder.


	57. 6-5 Clash of Knights

They had passed through the portal in the sewers and they were now on a planet Nightscream had never wanted to see again…Dathomir. He had lost a year and a half of his life on this planet slaving to a Quintesson notion of preventing Heat Death that all turned out to be a lie. At least this time he had other Cybertronians with him. He was grateful that Ratrap was with them, and he was even welcomed his usually distant father-in-law who was in command of the mission.

Despite Silverbolt's status as leader though, a large degree of what happened depended on Nightscream. He was the one who had been to Dathomir before, but he had never seen this part. The climate was more temperate, the trees more coniferous.

"I've never seen this area before," the bat said.

Skybyte frowned.

Nightscream looked at the young Predicon. He was older than Nightscream had been during the Spark Wars, but he was still the most inexperienced of the group. In fact, none of them except Nightscream had been to Dathomir before—and only Silverbolt had accompanied Cheetor to Coruscant on one occasion.

"Don't get overwhelmed. We know that the Chaos Bringer is in this area, as are the Quintessons. We are a small enough force to go unnoticed until the last minute," Nightscream said.

"Are we large enough to do any good though?" The lone Predicon asked.

"Not in a direct attack, but we can get to Quintesson Headquarters," Silverbolt said.

"Which is where I come in," Rattrap said. He curled his tail raound himself and held it in his hands.

There had been so many times during the Spark Wars where Rattrap had used his tail, with its drill-shaped end to hack into Vehicon computer terminals—times that had proven critical to the hopelessly outnumbered Maximals.

"Rattrap will access the terminals at the Quintesson base and remotely take control of the Sharkticons' programing. They will attack their Quintesson masters as we enter to confront the Chaos Bringer. Quake!" Silverbolt said.

Quake, the large ant Maximal, stepped forward.

"You will burrow beneath the ground when we first make visual contact with the Quintesson compound. Once there, Rattrap will follow the ventilation ducts until he finds a terminal."

"Understood," Quake said, raising a maroon chitin encased blaster that was normally encased in his exoskeleton of the same color.

Nightscream looked forward. The Quintesson would fall easily. What worried him more was the Chaos Bringer. There were only a few individuals bearing Unicron's Spark capable of the terror that Cheetor had communicated to him. Only a powerful Sith Lord would have fit what he understood to be Unicron's original plan. That meant either Darth Shadow or Darth Shredder. Either one would be incredibly impowered by Unicron's spark. Of the two though, Nightscream feared Shredder more. The Triceraton had spent his life being looked down upon and had had two cruel mentors in the forms of Krang and Darth Shaddow. He already had a desire to prove himself and anger at the universe in general.

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Darth Shredder gripped his gloved hand like a vice. Cody screamed as the Dark Lord tried to pull memories and emotions out of his head—not for content but to elicit a response in the Force.

Jones definitely felt pain, and anger, but it triggered nothing. Shredder moaned in disgust and forced Cody to look at him. Their eyes met.

"You have no Force connection, do you?" Shredder demanded.

"I thought I did. The Rakata said it was one of us…" Cody then realized his own surety that he had been the one the Rakata meant against Shredder. "And I'm your archnemesis, after all!"

Shredder roared and rushed toward Cody, drawing back his fist with its spiked gauntlet, ready to strike.

At the last moment Shredder turned his attention away from Cody and toward his former master.

Darth Shadow felt his trachea constrict. He would have protested but he could not speak. An unlikely ally came to his aid.

"Majesty, please," Quintesson Imperial Arbiter Alðerata came to Shaddow's defense. "If you kill your former master, who will train your heralds?"

"Silence, Arbiter!" Shredder snapped. He was breathing heavily. It didn't make since—focused anger was the strength of the Sith. His anger was clearly focused on Jones. If Jones was protecting someone else, his anger was even greater-there! That was it! Anger really did pay.

Shredder laughed maniacally. It reminded Alðerata all too much of Galvatron when his neural circuits were damaged.

"You cannot goad me with appeals to our rivalry, Jones. It is clear you are protecting someone. I'm going after your memories again."

Shredder raised his hand and Cody was pushed backward in his chair.

Cody winced as he felt as though each of Shredder's spikes punctured a part of his brain.

"Not Mirta, not Samedi, not Muni, neither of your friends I don't know…It has to be…Durga?!" Shredder laughed wildly.

"Does he still have your confidence?" Alðerata whispered to Shadow.

The former leader of the Sith, now sitting, looked at the Quintesson Arbiter.

"When he let me live, I thought he had lost it forever, but now the Sith are stronger than ever. My destiny was merely to keep the Sith tradition alive. Darth Shredder has now taken the powers of the Chaos Bringer."

"Still his obsession with Jones should trouble you. The template for your paternal DNA, Darth Maul, was obsessed with vengeance against his archnemesis Obi-Wan Kenobi. Do I need to remind you where that got him?"

Shadow grew annoyed with the Arbiter. "Shredder is not Maul," he said loudly enough for his master to hear.

Shredder stopped torturing Cody long enough to focus his attention on Alðerata. He turned, slowly.

"Does the Imperial Arbiter have something he wishes to say to me?"

Alðerata switched to his Face of Bitterness, and inclined his bulbous mantle.

"Forgive me, August one. I mean no disloyalty. I only express concern."

"In the words of the original Megatron, 'Duly noted…and ignored.'"

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Unlike Vehicon scanners, Quintesson ones could pick up the Transformers regardless of which mode they were in. The other Maximals on the team had different locations. Silverbolt, Nightscream, and Skybyte were all together following a route that led them to a room with four life signs: one Quintesson, one Triceraton, one Falleen-Zabrak hybrid, and one human. It was this last reading that most surprised the Cybertronians. Was the human a collaborator or a hostage? If the latter, then whoever it was needed to be rescued. The presence of the other two non-Quintessons only concluded what the Nightscream most feared: a Sith now bore Unicron's Spark.

They had now made there way up the ventilation ducts. A few minutes searching had brought them over a vent. They heard voices from below.

"As fun as wrenching your memories is Jones, it is clearly of no further purpose to me. We know its Durga by process of elimination, but you left before you could witness any of that. Now I will devour him and that entire Rakata community atom by pathetic atom—"

Shredder's voice—and he had Cody.

Nightscream froze.

"What is it?" Silverbolt asked.

"The human most definitely is a hostage, and the Chaos Bringer is Darth Shredder."

"The leader of the Foot Clan?" Skybyte was shocked.

"With his personality, history, and Force connection, there could not be a more dangerous host for Unicron's spark," Nightscream said.

Silverbolt allowed himself a smile.

"We can finish the mission now if we can eliminate the Shreddder." He stopped smiling and asked, "Nightscream, is your sonic scream still as maddening as ever?"

"Believe so, Sir."

"Fire on that grate and keep it going for as long as you can." Silverbolt turned. "Skybyte, cover your audio processors."

After a deep breath, Nightscream lurched forward and released a blast of energy from his mouth complete with high-pitch ringing intensity that created a hole in the ceiling for the Transformers to drop through to the floor below.

Alðerata turned off his audio input and switched to his Face of Anger. While the Sith were shielding their auditory organs coughing in the blinding sea of dust, the Imperial Arbiter knew exactly what was going on. "Transfomers!" He hissed.

Skybyte sliced through the rope around Cody's wrists with his fins.

"Ugh…Nightscream?" Cody called out.

"Skybyte, get him to safety."

The shark nodded to the bat and began walking with Cody on his shoulders.

Shredder opened his eyes and stared at the departing Human and Predicon.

"Alðerata, let them go."

The Arbiter turned his audio input back on just in time to hear his master's command. He nodded.

"You've caused me a lot of problems," Shredder pointed to Nightscream, "But, _you_ ," he pointed to Silverbolt, "Are a survivor of the Beast Wars. Cybertron's shining white knight. I want to see you go up against pure darkness."

Silverbolt took a defensive posture.

"I'll deal with you later," Shredder snapped his fingers and teleported Nightscream away.

"Shadow, give the knight a worthy opponent."

The former Sith Lord rose to his feet, ignited his dual bladed crimson lightsaber, and began taunting his enemy.

"I've heard of you. Silverbolt is not that impressive, but Jetstorm…"

"Quiet!" Silverbolt said, feeling the organic muscles in his arms grow tighter. He fired exploding quills at the Sith Lord that Shadow deftly avoided.

"You were at your strongest then…a being of darkness…" Shadow Force—pushed Silverbolt backward, jumped atop him, and brought his saber to rest just above Silverbolt's neck. Shadow was unsure whether to finish him or taunt him some more.

 _Yes_ , Silverbolt conceded. _Jetstorm could do things I can't, but…_

Silverbolt grabbed Shadow by the head.

"Jetstorm was an evil psychopath working for a megalomaniac…"

The Sith grunted as the Maximal forced his head down closer to his own blade.

"Just like _you!_ "

He was stunned with pain when his eyes met the blade. Silverbolt grabbed the lightsaber and bisected Shadow's skull.

The secret apprentice and possible replacement for Darth Vader was finally dead.

Silverbolt pushed Shadow's corpse off his body and stood. He had rid the universe of one of its greatest evils. He may have had two sets of memories, but he knew which one was the real him now. He fought for honor and justice. But was he just? His revulsion at Jetstorm was just, as was his revulsion at Shadow. The Sith and Quintesson leaders were too far gone for compassion, but he would try with Shredder.

He looked the Chaos Bringer in the eyes.

"I know about you, Zed Ram."

"That name no longer holds any meaning for me."

"You are trying to prove yourself worthy…"

Shredder disappeared, and then reappeared with his claws in Silverbolt's neck.

The Maximal wheezed softly and dropped to the floor, with no more life than the Sith Lord he had just slain.

Alðerata looked on, too shocked to switch from his Face of Anger to a more subservient one.

"All my enemies are now at the Rakata settlement, and I will deal with them in one fell swoop. What have you learned about me, Arbiter?" Shredder tilted Darth Shadow's head with his foot.

Alðerata quickly switched to his most subservient Face of Doubt.

"You have no need for your former master."

Shredder pressed his foot harder into Shadow's face.

"And if I have no need of one loyal to my cause, how do you hope to survive?"

Alðerata folded his tentacles and bowed his enormous head in the most respectful manner.

"I hope to offer you useful advice, strategies…"

Alðerata felt his breath constrict.

"I control matter and energy. I already have a plan to isolate Durga Besadii Tai from the others so that he will be at his most vulnerable. I don't need your strategies!" Shredder paused. "And are your strategies even meant to serve me in the first place? You still have your own plans."

"Hopes more than plans at this point," Alðerata said. "Hopes that our desires will intersect with yours when you rewrite history."

"Hopes that will only be met through my good graces. Make me appreciate you between now and then, Arbiter."

Alðerata bowed, regretting many things: Shredder more than Unicron or Starscream as indviduals, but his initial interactions with Primus and Unicron when he was an organic cephalopod from Ðaral most of all.


	58. 6-6 Quintessa Aeterna

AN: We are now in the last four chapters of the story. Two are falshbacks showing how Unicron, Primus, and the Quintessons set up the main issues involving Dathomir and Cybertron, and the last two follow our heroes up to the final confrontation with Darth Shredder.

"W" in Old Quintesson is pronounced without rounded lips as the Cephalopod Quintessons had beaks.

"ʕ" is a choking sound that becomes an "n" in later Quinteson

 **Dathomir, millions of years ago**

Al-ðe-ra-ta took a moment to focus his eyes—one on either side of his mantle—on the forest world on the view screen. The more important issue was the wormhole in the system and where it could lead. Hopefully, it would enable the _Kweʕ-te-sa_ Imperimum to expand to other parts of the galaxy quickly. The larger built _Sho-kwa-rol_ had only overthrown the more militant lighter built _Kwa-ro-a-rol_ and reorganized them into a warrior caste. All of Ða-ral was under the control of the most civilized subspecies of its most intelligent species for the first time in history. The time had come to expand.

Al-ðe-ra-ta noticed a familiar plodding of tentacles behind him: his nephew, De-li-gwe-ra-ta. Only two centuries had passed since De-li-gwe-ra-ta and his siblings had hatched—since Al-ðe-ra-ta's sister had passed—her body consumed by the same fluids that went into making the thousands of eggs she lay, just as her mate's body had deteriorated after impregnating her. Neither wanted to die, but both had been chosen by lot to be among the handful of _Kwe-te-sa-rol_ parents that year. Al-ðe-ra-ta and De-li-gwe-ra-ta were lucky: they had been designated permanent celibates—they would never die from mating. They would have to watch as that fate befell the ones they'd grown up with and helped raise. Lucky indeed.

"You are troubled, uncle?" The younger _Kweʕ-te-sa_ asked.

"Hopeful," the elder clarified. "Space is vast. The answer to our problems could lie on the other side of that wormhole."

As if brought on by his words, a small planet emerged from the wormhole. It was made entirely of metal and had a metal ring around it that connected to the body with four rods of the same material. On the middle of the side facing them was an opening with hornlike protrusions on either side. It glowed and fired a blast at the ship.

Everything shook.

"Get us out of here!" Al-ðe-ra-ta screamed at one of the smaller _Du-ru-rol_ servants.

"I can't sir! I've lost all control of navigation!" Iʕ-kwi-ra-ta, the servant, then looked at his charts.

"We're going to crash on the forest world!"

Al-ðe-ra-ta's hearts pounded in his mantle. He had not come this far to be thwarted! The chromatophores in his skin from its usual light-blue to a blazing red to reflect his mood.

"Everyone, attach yourselves in place and hold on!"

The suckers on their tentacles expanded and latched on to the ship's floor.

De-li-gwe-ra-ta looked at the mechanical planet for as long as he could. He knew that it was beyond there means to acquire vengeance now, but one day it would fall to their people's wrath. His skin went to the dark green normally seen on the _Du-ru-rol_ caste. Two eras of _Kwa-ro-a-rol_ and _Sho-kwa-rol_ dominance had taught them to mask all other feelings behind the dark green of certainty. They were certain of all orders. Now, De-li-gwe-ra-ta was certain of his order to himself—seek vengeance.

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The ship had landed on the on the surface of the forest world. The systems were all damaged. It would take time and resources to repair them—the former of which they had an overabundance, the latter they had none whatsoever to speak off save what they had brought with them.

Growing increasingly red and frustrated, De-li-gwe-ra-ta demanded that one of the _Du-ru-rol_ hand him a hydrospanner. As he tried to activate part of the engine he shocked himself, and angrily rattled his radula in the beak between his tentacles.

Al-ðe-ra-ta asked one of the _Sho-kwa-rol_ engineers how long repairs would take and received the maddening news that it would take several days. The captain let that news digest in his band-shaped brain and the dense network of large nerves that covered his entire body.

They had to assume that whoever was piloting the planet-sized ship was hostile and had some connection with the forest planet. It would make no since to strand them here on a valued world, so the most likely possibility was that it had tried and failed to destroy them. Perhaps the amount of energy required to operate such a large vessel left its weapon systems weaker. Whoever built it could conceivably share space with the _Kweʕ-te-sa_ Imperium, so Al-ðe-ra-ta needed to know what they were up against.

He turned one of his large eyes to face his nephew. "De-li-gwe-ra-ta, take a scanner. We are going to go looking for lifeforms."

De-li-gwe-ra-ta let his chromatophores cool to their neutral light green. He was ready for a diversion.

In addition to changing the skin color based on mood, a _Kwʕe-te-sa_ could also mimic the color and texture of their background—a natural cloak.

The two departed following the readings of Al-ðe-ra-ta's scanner. There was a single ectothermic vertebrate life-sign that was giving off unusual readings.

Al-ðe-ra-ta stuck the scanner to the inside of his tentacles and adopted the look of the local terrain as he slid ever more slowly closer to the life sign. Eventually he saw what he was looking for—an amphibious biped with eyes on stalks extending outward from its head.

It looked straight at Al-ðe-ra-ta and said in as perfect _Kweʕ-te-sa_ as his mouth structure would allow, "You have no reason to hide, honored guests."

How had he seen through the camouflage?

"Who are you?" Al-ðe-ra-ta demanded, still cloaked.

"My name is Primus and I'm the guardian of the gateway."

The gateway must have been the wormhole.

"Why did your machine attack us?" Al-ðe-ra-ta risked restoring his own colors and textures.

"Unicron is not my machine. He has a will of his own, born out of a dark past. If left unchecked, he is a threat to all that lives," the vertebrate said calmly.

"How could a machine have a will of its own?" Al-ðe-ra-ta asked forcefully.

"He was not always a machine. My position as guardian privileges me with information unknown to most sentients. I knew you would arrive at the same time as Unicron and that he would temporarily strand your ship here. He already knows you exist and will likely try to devour your homeworld. I will help you repair your vessel, but in exchange, I want you to help me destroy Unicron."

"Why would he devour our planet?" Al-ðe-ra-ta was skeptical of this.

"Because he consumes worlds to power himself. It gives him the ability to reshape matter and energy as he pleases."

"Were he so powerful, he would have consumed our vessel." Al-ðe-ra-ta scoffed.

"He likely wants to speak to you and bring you to his side."

"As you are now doing?" Al-ðe-ra-ta grew orange with an infectious laugh that spread to De-li-gwe-ra-ta.

"I want to help you. He wants to use you."

Al-ðe-ra-ta raised a tentacle. "I doubt very much that you want to help us, but you clearly need us. We will help you if you can change our biology. Make us have fewer children and not die during reproduction."

"I cannot do that," Primus said.

"Then can you make us immortal?"

Primus shook his head.

Al-ðe-ra-ta rubbed his tentacles together. "We will be in touch."

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Al-ðe-ra-ta and his nephew crawled back to the ship on their tentacles. Neither dared to speak aloud, but both thought the same thing: they were in the middle of a feud with two powerful beings. It would probably be best for the entire galaxy if Unicron and Primus destroyed each other—still there were unanswered questions.

Suddenly, the two _Kweʕ-te-sa-rol_ felt compelled to drop closer to the ground as it shook beneath them. Al-ðe-ra-ta oriented his eye upward and the cause of the shaking was apparent. Unicron could now be through the forest world's atmosphere, closer than any moon.

"Welcome, _Kweʕ-te-sa-rol_."

The two were frozen in terror, blue-green. Unicron had just confirmed what Primus had said. He knew of their species and homeworld. He was unmistakably a threat known.

"I have brought you here for a purpose."

So had Primus. It was safest to assume that both were threats.

"We have just met with your enemy Primus and heard his version of things. Do you wish to share yours?" Al-ðe-ra-ta turned dark green. He knew that as long as Primus and Unicron were looking for recruits, he held the strongest position.

"I sustain my own systems by devouring the matter and energy of ships and worlds. A miserable existence forced on to me by Primus. He seeks my destruction. There is a wellspring of life on the other side of the wormhole from which he draws energy. I want you to destroy it for me."

Al-ðe-ra-ta chuckled.

"And what do we get in exchange? You've already admitted to devouring worlds—something Primus said you would to Ða-ral. We are not foolish enough to seal our own doom. If you would have us do your bidding, first you must do ours." Al-ðe-ra-ta was no longer merely confident—now he was commanding.

"Your homeworld will have nothing to fear from me, but—"

"Not enough!" Al-ðe-ra-ta screamed. "You can manipulate matter and energy?"

"Yes."

"Can you alter my people's biology so that we don't die in reproduction?"

"No. I would have to recode your entire genome. That is beyond my skill."

A tint of orange satisfaction briefly rippled across the space between Al-ðe-ra-ta's eyes. Unlike Primus, at least this one explained himself.

"Then, can you alter our forms? Make us cyborgs, who can transfer our memories to technorganic clones?"

"That I can do. What form do you desire?"

After moments of discussion, the two cephalopods agreed on the basic outlines. Only the brains of the _Sho-kwa-rol_ would remain organic. Their robotic exoskeletons would be pale, but would have five humanoid faces, each one with headgear corresponding to the five principal emotions.

The lower castes would keep their organic tentacles and neutral green coloring.

After they had concluded their design, Unicron replied, "Then let us proceed."

A purple light held the two in place as it made first their skin and then their muscles transparent. The nerves glowed purple as bands of energy of the same color enveloped them. Their bodies changed shape from a long mantle with twelve thick tentacles and two giant eyes to a large dense circle with many slender tentacles. The light lifted and their jet motors ignited. The history of the _Kweʕ-te-sa-rol_ had just changed forever. The age of immortality had dawned.

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The spiral shaped ship left the planet's atmosphere. Primus looked on from below while Unicron actually saw them break through the atmosphere and enter hyperspace.

"You must be pleased with yourself," Primus said to his brother.

"I gave them what they asked for, something you couldn't do," Unicron said smugly.

"And how long 'til you devour their planet?"

"We've come to an agreement about that. About a lot of things, actually."

 _That_ caught Primus's attention.

"What sort of things!?" He demanded.

"Come now, brother, do you think I actually enjoy being the Chaos Bringer, a role you forced on me?"

Primus burned with guilt but then directed it back at Unicron.

"Those worlds you ate are on your hands! I didn't tell you to do it!"

"No, you just trapped my essence in this machine with no other way to power itself," Unicron spat back with the full sonic intensity his voice could muster. "But those worlds don't matter anymore. All that matters is the nexus here, the one Primacron made when he slaughtered my people."

"Our people!" Primus corrected.

"You were never one of us, Primus! You did everything Primacron asked of you, but now, though it may take millions of years, I can reverse it all."

What did Unicron mean?

"When I was a Rakata, my connection to the force was stronger than any living being's. If I can now add my strength to a chosen force wielder at the nexus Primacron created…I can control time…none of those worlds will have been destroyed…our people will never have been slaughtered or even come to this accursed planet."

"You can't mean to use the cephalopods…they are naturally weak in the force…"

"They are meant to find that individual, and they are to begin their search on Rakata Prime."

These beings that had just achieved hyperspace were no match for the Rakata—unless…

"What have you done to them!?"

"I already told you, I gave them what they wanted. I will be visiting their homeworld to upgrade the rest of their species. Considering how evolution turned out on their world they want to change the past as much as I do."

For the first time since he had imprisoned his brother inside the Chaos Bringer, Primus felt concerned for Unicron's safety.

"You know father tried to alter the past and said that the cost would be too high!"

"Primacron was not our father!" Unicron shouted in a deafening roar, "And where he failed, I will succeed."

"Then you will have to go through me, and you cannot kill me." Primus said.

"Nor you me."

"Is that what the cephalopods were for?"

"Actually no, I just need someone to do the groundwork. But that was your idea wasn't it?"

"I will go to any lengths to protect the universe from you brother. If that means doing to someone else what you have done to the Cephalopods, then so be it."

Unicron had only heard such determination from his brother once before, when he'd trapped hi in the Chaos Bringer. Now it was Unicron's turn to be the worried sibling.

"Brother, remember what you did the last time you were like this?"

"I had to right a wrong—"

"And created a bigger one."

"The Force is both light and dark. If my actions are for the greater good, what's the harm in giving in to darkness?"


	59. 6-7 The Dark Nexus

AN: Contrary to my original thoughts I think this is the same Primacron as in the _Transformers G1_ episode "Call of the Primatives." He kept himself alive after this chapter by means of clones and essence transfer like Palpatine did in the _Star Wars Legends_ comic "Dark Empire." The GI Autobots took care of Primacron, so he is no longer an issue in this story's present.

 **Dathomir, many millions of years ago…**

Primacron had known this day would come, but he had never imagined that this would be the result. He had been there for billions of years, left his own home in the Milky Way, built the Chaos Bringer machine…he should have been able to stop it. But sometimes blood cannot be swayed. He could not keep one Rakata from going back to his people…he could not keep the one he wanted…and there was only supposed to be one in the beginning.

He'd used the Chaos Bringer to crash a Rakatan colony ship on Dathomir. Soon enough the females would lay their gelatinous eggs in the local lake and soon enough the males would fertilize them. Primacron marked each occasion. When the males had gone, he dove into the lake, bringing a pouch with him and took one of the eggs and some water. He transported the cargo to the stream outside his lair. He waited the Rakatan gestation period for his eventual successor to hatch. Unlike the last guardian had done with him, he would train this one from infancy—only there wasn't one.

Two Rakatan tadpoles hatched from the same egg. This complicated matters, as only one could take Primacron's mantle. He would have to find some new role and decide which child fit which role. After much thought, he split his own name calling one child Primus and the other Unicron. Both were small as befit identical Rakata twins who had come from the same egg. It took a bit longer for their limbs to become fully developed for ambulation on land, but it was worth it.

Both boys were naturally talented with the Force—perhaps even more so than Primacron himself. Of the two, however, Unicron clearly had more potential than his brother, and was more curious. That was what made him a better student and successor.

That was also what made him more likely to go off with the adult Rakatans after he and Primus had encountered them one day. Of course, they both came back to Primacron after that first meeting, but Unicron kept going back to visit his kind. He wanted to know what it meant to be a Rakata. Primacron then made the fatal mistake of telling Unicron of his own separation from his species and how Unicron could not learn to be a Rakata for he had the same destiny. It was then that the boy fled, obviously to the Rakatan settlement, but equally obvious never to return.

Primacron then felt something that disgusted him…pity.

Primus was so saddened by what had happened with Primacron's separation from his species that he vowed never to leave his father.

Pity, sympathy-such things were weakness. The next Guardian did not need them, but now Primus was all Primacron had. Still, the Guardian had a plan to bring Unicron back to him. Primus would still be useful as a backup, but then that's all he ever had been.

The backup arrived just as Primacron was about to step onto the teleporter. There were many advanced pieces of technology in the cave that Primacron used to monitor the portals on the forest world and control the Chaos Bringer in orbit.

The dwarf primate turned to see his "son."

"What is it, Primus?"

"I spoke with Unicron today. He asked about you."

Primacron felt overjoyed.

"He wants to return?"

Primus shuddered and looked away.

"Primus, what is it?" Primacron looked up with a steely gaze.

"He asked if you ever asked about him and I told him you spent most everyday with your experiments. He then expressed disgust toward you and regret for asking." Primus struggled to get the words out. He had loyalties to both his father and his brother and hated being caught in the middle.

Primacron sighed.

"We must consider the possibility that Unicron is lost to us. Therefore, we must proceed with your own preparation."

Primus hated the word "therefore." He knew Unicron was his father's favorite and that his decision to leave had not changed that.

"I sense hesitation," Primacron said.

Primus knew that his father had just read him in the Force.

"Your thoughts are open to me, Primus. You resent that I favored Unicron. I assure you, it was not out of sentiment He was stronger in the Force, worked harder at honing his abilities, showed more curiosity at how the portals worked. He was the logical choice…but now…"

"I'm all you have!" Primus said angrily.

Primacron froze him in place with the Force.

"That is why I must train you."

Primacron brought an elongated cup and placed it in Primus's hand.

"That contains river water that passes through a portal. Drink it and you will be connected the wormhole. You will be its Guardian until another arrives to take your place."

Primacron stepped back on the teleporter.

"Where are you going, Father?"

"To reason with your brother." Primacron disappeared.

It made no since to Primus. Unicron was at the northern lake. The teleporter led to the Chaos Bringer's control room.

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He had not felt him in years, but Unicron recognized him instantly. The only being he feared. He turned.

"What are you doing…no, you're not here. You're in the Chaos Bringer!"

Primus felt the fear in his son. He understood whom it was for.

"Do not concern yourself with the village, Unicron. You were never meant to be a part of it."

Unicron's eyes bulged.

"Never _meant_? Primus and I hatched from an egg from this village! We were never meant to be with you!"

"And why do you think this community is stranded here with no contact with Rakata Prime? I did that. The Chaos Bringer shot their ship down. I always knew the Force-strength of the individuals on that ship! I always meant for you to be here!"

"And what are you going to do with the Chaos Bringer now?" Unicron already knew as he posed the question.

"These Rakata," Primacron began, "are only the materials that made you. Destiny has given you a larger purpose. You could one day become the greatest Guardian of the gateway that has ever been, even greater than me!"

"You think I want that!?" Unicron shouted.

"You think I did!?" Primacron shouted back in anger, before smiling. "It's good that you had this time with your people, as I did with mine. Now you will now sacrifice as I did, and you shall be ready!"

Unicron knew what he had to do. Reaching out with the Force he began to strangle Primacron, but the pilot, the real Chaos Bringer, only grunted as he rubbed his throat.

"You can't stop me," he said as he focused on fighting back Unicron's attack.

Unicron saw the hologram touch something that must have been a control panel.

Primacron then said, "See you soon, son," and disappeared.

Unicron looked up at the Chaos Bringer in the atmosphere. Its mouth opened and everything glowed red.

Hapless Rakatans scurried out of the lake as the water was sucked up in the Chao's Bringer's beam. The housing structures came next, torn apart under a red sky and sucked into the Chaos Bringer's maw. Now only the people remained.

Unicron's wife and child held on to him for dear life, but it was not enough. Rakatans with the patches of ground they stood on were being sucked up where they would be dissolved in acid pits. One by one the Rakatans and the ground they stood on were sucked up until only Unicron and his wife and child remained. Then the Chaos Bringer changed forms. Primacron used the Force to lock Unicron in place during the transformation. It took all of his energy to freeze Unicron but he was now free to pour all of his attention into the task. None of the Rakatans, not even Unicron and Primus had seen the Chaos Bringer in its humanoid mode before. The rings around the planet had become wings on the back of a giant mechanical being with two arms, two legs, and one head where the mouth had been. It had the same horns as the mouth, a metallic forked beard, and haunting emerald eyes.

Unicron then heard a voice that would haunt him forever: Primacron was speaking, but over the Chaos Bringer's speech system, "For a time I considered spearing your wretched little Rakatans, but now, you shall witness their dismemberment!"

Primacon used the force to hurl Unicron backward nearly a mile and then picked up the female and child with the Chaos Bringer's fingers and dropped them in its mouth.

Unicron had seen the whole thing. His people, their way of life, his own family gone. The wife whose soft hands caressed him, the baby he would cradle to sleep each night…gone…

"NOO!" Unicron screamed so loudly that he nearly burst a blood vessel in his neck.

The Chaos Bringer transformed back into planet mode and then he felt it. Primacron was on the planet. He was vulnerable. Unicron would sooth his sorrow with vengeance.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Primacron smiled to himself. All of Unicron's ties to the Rakatans had been severed. Nothing could distract him from his duties now, and with this much rage added to his natural talent he was sure to be stronger than Primacron. Suddenly, the dwarf primate felt something. He opened his eyes. Unicron stood across from where he sat cross legged in the cave.

"Welcome home—" Primacron coughed and gasped as Unicron grasped with his three fingered hand. The surge of directed emotion was too powerful for Primacron to resist.

"You _ate_ my home!" Unicron snarled.

Primacron fought back long enough to say, "I removed what stood between you and your destiny!"

"My destiny did not belong to you."

He pulled Primacron forward with the Force and hit the mammal's head against the side of the cave. Sense he wore a gold-plated cone helmet, the impact did not kill him, but it certainly hurt, and Unicron wanted to hurt Primacron for each Rakata he had devoured, saving his wife and child for the last. Then, the death blow would come.

Primacron had smiled through all the pain, proud of the monster he had created until…

"You can't kill me yet, Unicron! I have to make you the Guardian first!"

Primacron quit trying to block Unicron's Force-Choke. Instead, he poured all his energy into bringing the cup to Unicron, pushing his head back, and making him swallow. It took all his effort, but Unicron was so invested in choking him that he met no resistance. Only at the moment when Unicron spat the water out did Primacron realize he'd failed.

Primus rushed in to see his father's dead body on the floor and his brother standing above him.

He could not believe it! The two people he loved most—

"You!" Primus screamed at Unicron sending torrents of Force-lightning into him.

Unicron let Primus attack. He would explain everything to him when he calmed down.

But Primus didn't calm down. He levitated Unicron and dragged him out of the caves.

Unicron pleaded in vain as Primus walked through the forest, pulling him along in midair.

"You don't understand, Primus! He used the Chaos Bringer! My whole village ripped from the planet! My wife! My Daughter!"

Primus listened, but couldn't accept that their father would do something like that. He had to see for himself.

Soon Unicron realized where they were heading. Primus would see when they got there.

Where once had been a lake, now a scorched ravine existed. There were no signs of any of the Rakatan houses. The Chaos Bringer was visible in they sky, glowing with the energy of its recent meal.

Primus lost focus. Their father had indeed slaughtered the Rakatan village.

Suddenly both brothers felt every dark emotion come at them at once. Primacron had created a dark nexus.

Primus noted a crack at the bottom of the lake bed that had a silver glow. It was a portal. Immediately his mind raced—their father had had no choice, had he? That must be it!

"Unicron, Father was protecting a portal down there!"

That sparked Unicron's attention. He pushed Primus out of the way. Primus called out but Unicron charged forward. He had to know what justified the death of his family.

Primus reached for the portal with the Force. It came to him all at once. The portal had always been there, but Primacron's actions had turned this end into a massive dark nexus on the other side a light nexus already existed. A Guardian could draw on the Force from both sides and play with the fabric of spacetime.

"Unicron," Primus screamed, "there may be a way to get your family back." Then he noticed something about his brother.

"You are also a Guardian?"

Unicron paused and thought. He hadn't spit until he'd already swallowed most of the water.

"I suppose so," Unicron said, still a little surprised after his realization.

Primus walked toward Unicron and together they reached out to the nexus and through the portal to its counterpart. They focused on the village an illusion of a house would flicker in and out of existence. They would focus on the lake and their feet would get wet, but only for a moment. Then the ground shook as the fissure widened and a fierce storm broke out. Primus broke concentration to look around. The storm was not coming or going anywhere. It was as though the spacetime they were trying to manipulate was fighting back. Primus then remembered something Primacron had said: _We are only guardians, not gods. Even if you become stronger than me your power will still have limits against which nature will always push back._

"Unicron!" Primus screamed as he hurried over to his brother, taking a few rapid steps and halting as the ground shook. "We've got to stop! We'll destroy the planet!"

Unicron continued to face forward with determination.

"Not until our people are back!" Unicron unleashed Focre-lightning into the portal, making the fissure grow.

Primus tried to pull Unicron back with the Force, but his brother put up an equally strong resistance which sent the two Rakatans flying in opposite directions.

Primus hit his head on some rocks, but was otherwise unharmed. Unicron however fell into the portal. His body melted into black energy, until the shape of a giant atom was left. Its core pulsed as the weather and earthquakes subsided. It shot straight into the Chaos Bringer.

Primus knew that this dark pulsating atom was what was left of his brother.

Then Unicron screamed, in the voice that Primacron had scarred him with: the voice that would forever be his own.


	60. 6-8 What We Fight For

Cody and Skybyte had been racing through the woods for what must have been an hour.

"I have a bad feeling about this," the Shark Predicon said as he stopped and looked around.

Cody knew what he was talking about.

"You mean no Sharkticons, Xenomorphs, or Sith?"

Skybyte nodded.

"Shredder wanted us to escape. He wants to finish us all off at once in one fell swoop."

That confused Skybyte.

"Who's 'us?'"

"A Mandalorian, two Jedi, two Yautja, a Hutt, me…" Cody paused, "…and now probably everyone who came with you."

Cody's adrenaline spike was fading, and the speed and distance were catching up to him. He sat in front of a tree and took a deep breath. He noticed Skybyte looking at him, and then back toward the Quintesson compound repeatedly…almost like a nervous tick.

"Is this your first mission?" Cody asked.

"No, but you can't ever be ready for the Chaos Bringer. I'm still worried about the others."

"How long have you served with them?"

"This _is_ my first mission on an almost all-Maximal team." Cody didn't want to push any further. Ethnicity was still as sensitive subject on Cybertron, and it was not really gone on Earth either. His father had been the first half-Korean head of O'Neil tech which shouldn't have been an issue in a post-racial world, but it had hurt business in areas that traditionally had troubled histories with Korea, like Japan. Had Cody's paternal grandmother only had Korean ancestry, it may have been a different story, but she was born and raised in Pyongyang.

The Autobot-Decepticon conflict had been going on for millions of years and there had only been piece between the Maximals and Predicons for the last thirty.

A voice called out to Skybyte from the woods.

"Skybyte! You're alive!"

A technorganic rodent scampered out of the brush.

"Rattrap, sir!" Skybyte said.

Cody forced himself to stand. Any hero-worship he had for Nightscream paled in comparison to this guy: Rattrap was a veteran of both the Spark Wars on Cybertron and the Beast Wars that a two Maximal and Predicon crews fought on prehistoric Earth.

"Who's this guy?" Rattrap looked at Cody.

"He's a human we rescued. He knows what's going on here." Skybyte paused. "Sir, the others…"

"Everybody I saw was off-line except you. I never saw Silverbolt or Nightscream," Rattrap said somberly.

"They stayed behind to fight the Shredder so Skybyte and I could escape," Cody said.

"Who?" Rattrap asked, immediately suspicious and resentful of the human who might have just cost two of his best friends their lives.

"The Chaos Bringer, the guy you were sent here to stop. I think I know what he's after."

"And what is that?" Rattrap demanded.

"There's a dark nexus somewhere on this planet that he can harness to alter spacetime. He wants to change history."

Rattrap then realized that this had been Unicron's plan from the beginning.

"He wants to become a god, just like Megatron."

"I know of some others who might be able to stop him," Cody offered.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Cody!" Mirta called out when she saw him and the two Cybertronians emerge from the woods.

Cody rushed into Mirta's embrace while Rattrap and Skybyte rushed to Nightscream. Cody noticed this out of the corner of his eye.

"Nightscream, how'd you get here?" Cody asked, followed by a quiet, "What happened to Silverbolt?"

"I don't know," the bat shook his head, "Shredder teleported me here, but it seemed like he wanted to challenge Silverbolt in person."

"A trophy," Yeyinde said inserting himself into the conversation. That meant that Silverbolt was probably dead by now.

Rattrap, Nightscream, and Skybyte were all quiet.

"What's done is done," Cody said. "All we can do now is prepare for what comes next," he shifted his eyes to Durga, "and a lot of that is up to you."

Durga cast his eyes down. He pointed to Tesar and Muni.

"They're your Jedi. I never even knew I had the Force until today."

"But Durga," Muni said, "The Rakatans are sure that it has to be you."

"What's a Rakatan?" Rattrap asked.

"They a Force-sensitive community that lives in the large lake there," Muni gestured outward with his hand.

Skybyte decided to ask an awkward question.

"Is it okay to swim in the lake?"

Everyone stared at him.

"What?" he raised up his hands. "I've been in robot mode for nearly two cycles now. My beast mode's a shark, I need the water."

"Fine," Cody said, "Just don't scare anyone…or get scared."

Just as Cody said that, Hekka and two other Rkatans surfaced and waded toward the shore.

Skybyte took a step backward.

"Now, all of you are here," he said looking at the Cybertronians. "The time is near for you all to learn what it is you are fighting for, but it must start with him," he pointed to Durga.

Durga sighed.

"My Force abilities have been locked away from conscious memory for a long time, even before the stuff with Tala and my dad."

"But it is there," Hekka insisted. "It helped us to repel the Sith's attack, and it is with our help that you can counteract the Chaos Bringer while his nemesis distracts him."

"Me?" Cody asked. It did make since, every Shredder since Oroku Saki had hated Cody's family.

"Yes," Hekka said, "and the warriors who will support you."

Suddenly the jigsaw made since. Cody was the Shredder's archnemesis, but he had little fighting skill. Mirta, Yeyinde, Blade, Nightscream, and Skybyte could make up. The two Jedi could either have a place with Durga or himself. Durga needed all of the Force he could get, but there were still two Sith Lords to take down, not to mention an army of Sharkticons and Xenomorphs.

The only one who didn't fit was Rattrap.

Apparently, Rattrap was wondering the same thing.

"No room for anyone who can break codes?"

"Actually, Durga will have great need of your assistance, but it will be better if Primus explains."

The Cybertronians all looked at Hekka. They had to have misheard. No one had seen their creator since—

A Rakata appeared out of thin air. His body was translucent and surrounded by a blue aura.

"Thank you all for responding to my summons," he said. "My name is Primus and I need your help to fix mistakes I made long ago." His eyes suggested his mind was in the distant past.

"Are you our creator?" Nightscream asked, his voice between reverence and anger.

"I used living tissue from myself and Cybertron's organic wildlife to create your sparks out of midichlorians, so, yes, Nightscream, I created your kind, but you should not think of me as a god. I did not create you for my own sake but to be soldiers in my war against my brother."

"Unicron?" Nightscream asked already knowing the answer.

"How does a robot that eats planets have an organic brother?" Yeyinde asked.

"He was not always a machine," Primus said sadly. "His tragedy was how I learned to create sparks." He looked at the Cybertronians, "I made you with no other purpose than to be warriors against my brother—a tendency that has plagued the Autobots and Decepticons to this day. A God would not create a problem for his Children. The problem would be of their own making, and if necessary their Creator would join them to fix the problem himself. I believe this happened once on Earth."

Yeyinde felt chills when heard this. It was what Claudelle had believed in.

Blade saw his mentor's heart rate and blood pressure alter through his mask.

"Are you alright, Elder?" the younger Hunter asked.

"I would not be alive now if a certain human had not believed what he said," he whispered.

"There is a dark nexus on this planet twenty miles to the north at the place we call 'The Burnt Lake.' Primacron, the being who raised my brother and I, slaughtered a Rakatan village there, and my brother became the Chaos Bringer. He wanted to use the energy of that nexus to control spacetime and revive the village. But as I said, he and I are not gods. There are limits to our power, and we could have destroyed the planet in our folly. Darth Shredder bares my brother's spark and ambition to rule and conquer. He will try to alter the history of the entire Universe, and if not stopped would destroy that universe in the process. So too do the Quintessons."

Now everything from the beginning made sense.

"Stopping heat death!" Cody exclaimed.

"What the Quintessons want is for this universe to last forever, which isn't its destiny."

Tesar snarled.

Primus turned to face him.

"You speak with certainty that there is a creator, and this universe will have an end—the Force creates life and the Force is eternal."

Primus moved his head in a gesture that symbolized both respect and disagreement.

"The force is created _by_ life. Even the cosmic force that enables me to talk to you depends on the living force. Destroy all life and you won't have a force. I'm one of the most force-sensative beings to ever exist so I should know. Furthermore, I had a teacher given specifically to me after my error with Cybertron—the Matrix. It existed specifically to guide me past my errors. The force is ultimately neither light nor dark—it reflects the heart of whomever wields it. It is built by life's interconnections and reflects light and dark because both exist in life."

Tesar stood jaw agape as Primus just deconstructed the entire philosophy of the Old Jedi Order, the New Jedi Order, the Baneite Sith, the One Sith, and the Knights of Ren.

"You are wrong!" Tesar snarled.

"I feel your anger, and it is coming from you, not a dark side."

Tesar shook his head, but Muni listened eagerly.

"So," Mirta said, "this universe is doomed no matter what we do."

"Yes," Primus said, though he raised a finger and his tone sounded negative, " _this_ one is doomed, but spacetime is not all of existence, nor the only place where we can exist. Everyone who you've lost on this mission is still out there, in a place we can't yet reach."

"You're asking us to believe a lot with no proof," Mirta said.

"He's in a different plane already! What is so hard!?" Tesar hissed.

"Because, I've already established that my plain depends upon yours," Primus said.

"If you need these ones and these ones are doomed anyway what does it matter?" Tesar still observed the Barabel restriction on first-person pronouns even in his anger.

Muni was quite shocked to see his mentor behave in such an antagonistic manner, especially to a Force-ghost.

"Tesar-ji, maybe we should listen to him?"

Tesar grunted.

Primus looked at every member of the group. "You must trust that it is not time for this universe to end yet. The Matrix told me it was a model specific to Cybertron for teaching me about the universe. I had to accept on faith that its pattern holds true, as does the person who takes this job after me." Primus's eyes fell on Durga.

"Me…" he said hesitantly.

"You," Primus responded.

Suddenly a Rakata emerged from the forest, carrying a wooden cup. The water inside sparkled.

"Durga," Primus said softly, "it's time."

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At the Quintesson compound, dark thoughts gathered.

"Our training under Darth Shadow was not yet complete when the Maximal killed him," Darth Galvan lamented as he rested, sitting against the wall.

"You worry too much," his Noghri counterpart, Darth Cyclone, said pacing. "Darth Shredder can destroy all of our enemies with the flick of his wrist."

"And yet he doesn't," the Yuuzhan Vong said. "He knows that this next battle could determine the future of the universe and restore true justice—the reason we became Sith. However, he is treating it like stagecraft. In doing so, he leaves himself vulnerable." He stared at her measuring her body shape, speed, which hand she favored. He would leave nothing to chance as far as he could help it.

"He wants to draw on his fury against Jones," Cyclone waved her hand and shook her head, disregarding her superior's concern. "He needs that fury to harness the full power of the nexus." She had joined the Sith for a very simple reason—she wanted revenge. She wanted Rukh back. Abstract notions like justice were for the idealistic. "Sometimes I think you forget what it means to be a Sith!"

Galvan's eyes glowed yellow as he made a vice with his fist, choking Cyclone.

"We use our rage to reshape the universe in our image!" He said harshly as she choked. He released his grip and she began to breath again.

"Just remember that everyone who has tried before has failed. I won't deny that Master Shredder has tools they never did, but overconfidence always breeds distraction."

"Not always," a third voice entered the fray.

Both Sith looked to see the female Quintesson Scientist Hexato.

"Go away, Quintesson! You're not welcome here!" Cyclone spat. She blamed all Quintessons for causing Rukh's death and implicating the Sith. Her idea of a perfect universe was one without a Quintesson Empire.

Hexato started to back away, but Galvan said in his most commanding voice, "Ignore her. Stay."

The scientist remained still.

"When has overconfidence been useful?"

"Lord Galvan, I don't think—

"I gave you an order, Worker!"

"Our decision to breed Force-sensitive Xenomorphs, and our first negotiation with Unicron himself."

"Look where all of that has got you!" Cyclone said with folded arms.

Galvan lifted a finger and she felt pressure on the back of her neck. She fell silent.

"Tell me about Unicron. How did overconfidence help you?"

She sighed and began, "The Imperial Arbiter knew that Unicron needed us, so he boldly demanded that the Chaos Bringer use his powers to make us immortal. He would not cooperate with Unicron unless his demands were met."

"But now Unicron is dead, and Darth Shredder does not need your Arbiter," Galvan pointed out.

"Darth Shredder will also not need you after tomorrow."

"The universe will be as it should," Galvan said calmly.

Hexato nodded and hovered away, but Galvan used the Force to hold her in place and scan her thoughts: she wanted a universe where Quintessons were still organic and mortal, but not constantly surrounded by the deaths of loved ones.


	61. 6-9 The End

AN: After Primus's discussion of the force last chapter I will only capitalize it if the character in focus has not adopted Primus's views.

Cody, Mirta, Yeyinde, Blade, Nightscream, and Skybyte had all set out for the Burnt Lake. It was a great chasm where a lakebed had once been. The most striking feature was a crack in the ground that glowed silver, or rather that would have been the most striking feature: Shredder, Alðerata, Atrilo, and several dozen Xenomorphs were there.

Shredder felt a very familiar presence and looked up to see his nemesis.

"Greetings, Jones!" He called from the chasm. "Everyone you brought has good reason to be here today." He closed his eyes and reached out to the different minds, something to which even the technorganic Cybertronians were helpless. _Mirta_ … "The self-righteous Mandalorian who never trusted any of our judgments is about to face a universe where mine is the only one that matters…" _Samedi and the youngblood_ …"Two Blooded Yautja Hunters against a swarm of Force-sensitive Xenomorphs…" _Nightscream and…a Predicon?..._ "An Autobot and Decepticon at the true location where their species was born—an Autobot who had been trapped here a long time without knowing this world's true significance…" Shredder inhaled. "Finally," he said, opening his eyes directly at Cody, "My archnemesis is here to witness the ultimate triumph of the Foot."

"You're insane, Shredder," Cody said to the Triceraton.

"Petty insults cannot stop me, but why don't y'all come down for a ring side seat?"

The Dark Lord of the Sith waved his hands and the Xenomorphs spread apart to make a path for the heroes to walk down.

Cody reached Shredder only for the Triceraton to say, with his eyes focused elsewhere, "He should've brought Durga, shouldn't he, Galvan?"

Far away at another lake, the apprentice answered, "Yes, he should have."

Shredder looked out with the Force and used his vast power to implant what he saw in his audience's minds.

Durga, Muni, Tesar, Rattrap were all bowing with their hands behind their heads. The full force of Shredder's Sharkticons and Xenomorphs had been poured out against the Rakatan village…too many for even a force-sensitive community to overcome.

The third-ranking Sith of the new order, Darth Cyclone smiled at the sight of their complete victory, but curled her lips in distaste when she noticed the Quintesson scientists and their instruments.

"Do they really need to be here?"

"We need them to monitor our Force-sensitives," Galvan said. "Besides," he looked at Durga, "They deserve a history where the Quintessons and not the Hutts have the easiest life-cycle on Nal species had it easier in the previous history, so this is justice."

Durga felt horrible hearing those words. The natural lifespan of both a Hutt and a Quintesson was around a thousand years, but whereas as Hutts rarely reproduced and a single individual could fertilize itself, Quintessons reproduced in mass numbers and the process always killed both parents. Those who were left behind to transmit culture had to lose loved ones over and over again.

"The Sith don't want justice, only what feeds their passion," Muni said.

Darth Galvan formed a vice with his fist ready to choke the boy, when Cyclone, who had formerly been Meewal Clan Khim'bar, Muni's caretaker for a few weeks, rose a hand to stop Galvan.

"He is right. We want vengeance!"

"Vengeance is what I'm achieving today," the voice of Darth Shredder said to both of them.

"Let Durga go, Shredder!" Cody said to Shredder.

The Dark Lord scoffed, "And loose my advantage? No, I could have killed all of you at once, but this way," he froze each of them in place, ended their sight of what was going on at the other lake, and turned their heads one by one to look at him, "You get to witness the final revenge of an underestimated child of Triceraton immigrants to Earth over the entire universe!" He looked at Cody, "That is the difference between us Jones. You inherited everything. I worked for it!"

Cody now knew not why he was the Shredder's archnemesis, but Zed Ram's personal archnemesis. For all that this was an ancient conflict between Primus and Unicron, Sith and Jedi, Autobot and Decepticon, Quintesson and everyone in their path, it was an intensely personal conflict between two beings who had grown up on Earth under very different circumstances.

"You are just proving you're the nobody everyone thought you were," Cody said. "You have to rewrite the past to feel good about yourself!"

Shredder pulled Cody closer to him.

"And you only need billions of credits!"

"Actually I can admit now that I have been isolated from the real universe most of my life. I thought I understood hardship because of my ancestors and my progressive politics, but there are a lot of things about me I'd change."

Shredder snickered.

"Then you should love my new role for you."

Shredder squeezed his eyes closed and stretched his hand forward. The silver crack in the ground began to grow larger.

Shredder reached further and further into the past, beyond his life, beyond the founding of the Foot, the Triceraton Republic, the formation of the Sith, the Liberation of Cybertron from the Quintessons…and with each year the ground shook and storms thundered. Each century brought a solar flare, and by the time he moved back several tens of millennia stars in nearby systems had exploded. Shredder felt all of these things, but the risk was worth it. He arrived at his goal just a little beyond twelve million years ago—by now much of both galaxies had been destroyed but he was there he had Rakata Unicron in his grip, struggling to break free.

"Darth Shredder and only Darth Shredder is the Chaos Bringer!" He said as he snapped Unicron's neck and suddenly—it was all gone. He was jolted back into the present with the sickening awareness that he'd extinguished the same spark that amplified his Force-abilities and that it had taken his Force-abilities with it.

He looked around to see a volcano erupting where none had existed before, felt soaked by a torrent of rain, and could barely keep his footing between the earthquakes and the gale force winds. The Xenomorphs were scurrying in all directions like mindless beasts.

"Shredder, you idiot! You have failed!" an entirely organic cephalopod whose skin blazed red shouted to him. It was obviously Alðerata, but the voice reminded him of Krang.

He had come so far, only to fall at the final moment. He was filled with rage.

"Oh shut up!" He sliced through Alðerata with his lightsaber, which thank the gods he still had. He turned to Cody.

"I will kill you today Jones if it is the last thing I do!"

He walked toward Cody, as the human pleaded, "Zed, it doesn't have to end this way!"

 _It can only end this way now._

Shredder's plan had failed, but he could still prove he wasn't stupid or weak.

He deactivated his lightsaber and approached Cody slowly and put his hands on the human's shoulders.

"You have been my greatest nemesis, Cody. Please tell me how else it can end?"

As Cody began to open his mouth, Shredder ignited his lightsaber and stabbed Cody through the back and himself through the stomach. He deactivated the blade and both fell in opposite directions.

Shredder would soon be dead, his relevance spent. Cody was still relevant to those remaining.

"Cody!" Mirta shouted as she ran toward him. She lifted his head in her hands and kissed his lips, their feelings no longer denied.

"I'm sorry we can't live happily ever after," Cody said.

"Don't say that! We can…" Mirta stopped. If they used the power of the nexus to turn back time, they would be no different than Shredder. She had to put her emotions aside. She put her hand on his cheek and let a tear stream down her own.

He weakly reached up to dry the tear with his thumb.

"Maybe we will all meet again in that place Primus talked about." And with those words Cody Jones died.

The Xenomorphs had all scattered. A teal colored cephalopod mourned over Alðerata's pale body.

"What do we do about her?" Skybyte asked.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The lake overran the shore. The Xenomorphs were too frightened to swim and the Sharkticons received no commands from the Quintesson base. Galvan and Cyclone had climbed on to the ledges of a nearby hill. They had felt the loss of their master's Force abilities, but strangely seemed to have retained their own.

 _Come_ , the Yuuzhan Vong said telepathically to the Noghri, _The Sith must survive._

Below, the amphibious Rakatans and Quintessons should have been safe if not for the sweeping waves.

Tesar had created a force-bubble around himself, Muni, Durga, and Rattrap. All of the Barabel's concentration went into maintaining the bubble while Muni spoke through the force to Durga.

 _Durga-ji, this is your time_. _Draw on all the powers you have and that Primus gave you. Correct what Shredder did. Link your mind to Rattrap's._

Durga looked to the Maximal. He hadn't been privy to Muni's message, but Primus had given him the gist of the battle plan yesterday. Durga would link minds with him and use Rattrap's computer hacking abilities to bypass the immense changes Shredder had made to the timeline and correct them at the source.

Rattrap nodded, signaling that he understood.

Durga reached out and suddenly saw everything as if it were computer code. Suddenly he knew what the codes he was looking at meant: damage to the timeline and the universe. He also knew how to correct them. He reached out and a character in one code changed. A black hole changed back into a star and all its planets and their histories were as they were before Shredder changed them. Hours went by as Durga changed hundreds of codes. He did not know what to change any of them to until he saw them and the knowledge of each left him as soon as he moved on. By the time he was finished he had restored all of spacetime up to his present, but something remained not quite right.

The pattern for the Quintessons, something told him it was wrong and how to fix it. He did so and immediately he was back in the "real" world.

"What happened?"

He looked around. The skies were clear; the water calm; Tesar, Muni, and Rattrap all standing near him. He felt the life from the Rakata community in the lake below.

"Does everyone remember Shredder altering the timeline?"

Nods from everyone present. The damage had been repaired but everyone still remembered the old timeline.

"He didn't try to alter it—he succeeded!" A distraught voice called.

Inquiriata and Hexato stood with spread tentacles on the shore in their organic forms.

"We are now what we used to be!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Several hours passed when the party from the other lake returned. Cody was dead from a lightsaber wound through his abdomen. Apparently so was Shredder.

"I think one of them is in a better place now," Mirta said as Durga looked at his friend sadly.

The three Quintessons gathered around the third body. The Quintesson Empire now lacked an Arbiter, and they were now all organic just as the had been eons ago. This was the single greatest defeat in all their long history.

"We are doomed now," Atrilo moaned.

Durga reached out with the force. He did not know what to expect, but this was not it.

"Actually, you will reproduce less often now," Durga said, "And it won't kill you."

The Quintessons all gasped.

So did the Cybertronians.

Nightscream then realized what had gone on here. It was part of the same process started on Cybertron thirty years ago with the Great Reformatting.

"A long time ago, Unicron and Primus tried to change history to restore the village Primacron destroyed. When Primus realized the consequences, he tried to stop Unicron and the two became enemies. Both tried to enlist the Quintessons to fight for them, and then the Cybertronians. Both species were hurt in the process, but now both are being healed."

"But the Quintessons already had difficulties before Primus and Unicron were involved," Blade said.

"Consider for a moment though, had Primacron never created the nexus, the Quintessons would still have their old lifecycle, and if the Quintessons had never become involved with Primus and Unicron, the Cybertronians would never have existed, and had Cody not been Shredder's mortal nemesis, none of what happened here today would have occurred," Muni observed.

"And had it not been for Lwothin, Cody, would never have come back to Dathomir, and if had not been for Uxils, Lwothin would not have brought Cody," Yeyinde added. _And if it had not been for Claudelle I would have been one of Shredder's Heralds_.

"Rukh played a role too. He rescued me from…" Muni paused. Something was not right. He could feel it in the force.

"Galvan and Cyclone still have their force powers."

"There is probably a reason for that as well," Mirta said. Her saying that was the most surprising of anyone in the group. She was the most prone to give into emotionally fueled decisions, perhaps even more so than Shredder had been. But she had seen firsthand where her way of thinking got people…what the Quintessons and Shredder had done to Quoreal and Meewal. Muni continued feeling outward and keeping his eyes closed. "There are still many Xenomorphs on this planet. The Rakata are not safe."

Yeyinde smiled behind his mask. This was the true time a Hunter was necessary. He could fufill his goal of restoring honor to his name in the sight of the other Yautja and help sentients in the process. He turned to Blade, "Ready for a hunt, Youngblood?"

 **The End**


End file.
